LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



^:^'<si- 





ELLEN E. HEBRON, 

WHEN A JUNIOR AT MEMPHIS FEMALE COLLEGE, 1865 



MY ONLY DAUGHTER. 




MY MOTHER. 






THE SECOND BABE.' 



MY YOUNGEST. 



rAlTH. 



-OR- 



EARTriLY PARADISE: 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



1/ 



BY KLLEN E. HEBRON. 



" Go ye ill to all the world and preach the Gospel to every 

creature. ' ' 



PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR 
BY THE 

W. T. P. A., 161 La Salle St., Chicago. 
1890. 







Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1S90, 

Bv Ellen E. Hebron, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



©eDicatiott. 

TO 

THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER, 

Whose Love oe Literature, and Indomitable Energy 

in rearing and training 

HER FATHERLESS CHILDREN, RENDERED IT 

POSSIBLE EOR ME 

EVER TO WRITE A BOOK ; AND 

TO 

THAT BRAVE BAND OF NOBLE MEN AND WOMEN, 

WHO GO FORTH TO LABOR 

IN THE Master's vineyard in Foreign fields ; and 

WHO CONSTITUTE, UNDER PROVIDENCE, 

THE Grand Spiritual Lever which is destined to 

EVENTUALLY RAISE THE WORLD 
FROM THE 

"Slough of Despond," and place it firmly upon the 

"Rock of Ages," 
these pages are affectionately and reverently 

dedicated by 

The Author. 



^tt inliocation. 



DEDICATED TO EACH READER. 

^jilfNOULD I could stand again 
WMy Qj^ i^ijy threshold of sunny youth ; 

Would I could tell with an angel's tongue 
The story of God's great truth. 

Would I could sweep the chords 
Of some harp that the world would hear ; 

That the melting notes of Redeeming Love 
Might reach each mortal ear. 

Would I could stand aloft 
On some mountain-top of thought ; 

And tell all nations of the plan 
With so much goodness fraught. 

Would I — e'en I — could go 

To utmost bounds of earth ; 
That my voice, and eyes, and life might tell 

The story of Christian worth ! 

(Grod grant that these feeble lines 

May in some soul be cast, 
That will bud and blossom in Mission-fields 

Bearing some fruit at last. 



I( 



Jntirx to IJofms. 

FAITH, OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 
ACT I. 

PAGE. 

Scene I. Parental Reflections, - - - 2 

II. Sabbath Morning in Spring : Faith's Bap- 
tism, - - . . 6 

III. A Summer's Morning ; Faith at Play, - 11 

IV. Faith at her Studies, - - - 18 
V. Family Prayer, - - - - 27 

VI. Faith at College ; Reginald's Love - 29 
VII. Home Again ; Faith's Vow, - - 32 

ACT II. • 

Scene I. Faith at College Again ; President's Charge 

to Class, - - - . 45 

• II. Commencement Exercises, - - 47 

III. Theodore's Love for Faith, - - 59 

IV. Theodore Visits the Prisoner, - - 76 
V. Theodore leaves America, - - 80 

VI. Reviewing the Bishop's Sermon, - - 87 

VII. Visiting the Erring Ones ; their Conversion loi 
VIII. Mary's Happy Death, - - - 108 

IX. Fidelia Comfort's Faith, - - - 116 

ACT III. 

Scene I. Hubert's Love for Faith ; or the Temp- 
tation, - - - - 142 
•" II. Reginald's Revenge for Faith's Rejecting 

Him, - ■ - . - 162 



Vl 



INDEX TO POEMS. 






Scene III. Leander in Prison, Charged with For- 
gery, - .... 172 
IV. Leander at Home ; His Triumphant Death, 181 
V. Faith's Reflections on Theodore's Por- 
trait, . - - . . ig2 

VI. Theodoric's Love for Fidelia, - - 198 



ACT IV. 

Hubert's Love for Faith Again, - - 211 

Theodore's Return, - - - 225 

Theodore Visits Faith : Strange News for 

Fidelia, ..... 229 

Reginald's Miserable Death, - - 243 

Laurence's Love for Fidelia, - . 249 

The Double Wedding, - -; - 264 

Theodore and Faith at home, - - 274 

Lawrence and Fidelia at Home, . - 280 

ACT V. 

Little Theodore's Welcome, - - 292 

Little Theodore's Baptism, - - 296 

Embarking for China, ... ^03 

Evening Devotions at Sea, - * - 321 



SCEN 


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H 


II. 


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III. 


(( 


IV. 


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V. 


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VL 


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VIL 


n 


VIII. 




• 


Scene I. 


(< 


IL 


(f 


IIL 


(C 


IV. 



OTHER POEMS. 

An Allegory, - ' - 

A Dream : Blighted Genius, 

A Plea for Prohibition, 

A Woman's Platform, 

Birth of the New South, . 

Centennial Hymn, ... 

Christian Fraternity, ... 

Clouds and Sunshine, 

Deer Creek in November, 

Dom Pedro at the Grave of Washington, 



- 375 
333 

- 471 

- 446 
394 

- 364 
343 
412 

384 

- 462 



INDEX TO POEMR. Vll 

Earth's Treasures, - - - - - ' - 410 

Growing Old, --.... 4^^ 

Heart-Breathings : A Welcotne to Miss Willard, - - 458 

"Home, Sweet Home," ----- 428 

Hymn for Easter, - - - - - . 346 

In Memoriam : Victor Elgin, - . - - 465 

In Memory of Little Harry, - . - . 46S 

Lines Written on Passing my Old Home, - - 43S 

Little Will, - - . - - •- - - 527 

Mississippi - - - - - - 419 

My Birthday, .--... 344 

My Dream, - - - - - - 373 

Our Federal Dead, ------ 40S 

Poesy, ---.-.- 39S 

Prayer, 399 

Remembrance, ------ 3S7 

Remorse, --.--.. 366 

Robert Kelly, ------ 443 

Self-Denial and Christian Sympathy, - - - 331 

September Birds, - . - - - 525 

Sermon for Boys, ------ 404 

Serenade, ------- 349 

Snow in the Balkans, - - - . - . 3S9 

Some Day, ------- 424 

Song of the Dying Christian, - - . - 4^1 

Song of the Sainted Father, - - . - 449 

Song of the Sainted Mother, - - - _ 427 

Song of the Knights of Pythias, - - - - 330 

Song for the Lower Million Sons of Toil, - - - 414 

Song for Miss Belle Kearney, - - - - 463 

Song for the Y. W. C. T. U., - - - - - 461 

Southland's Legacy, ----- 337 

Thanks for Papers, - - - - -451 

The Blest Surprise, - - - - - 371 

The Brave Engineer, - _ . - - 381 

The Council of the Birds, - - - - - 391 

The Dying Message, .... - 434 



VIU INDEX TO POEMS. 

The Editor's Dream, ------ 429 

The Evening Ride, - ... - 347 

The Fate of Genius, -.-... 417 

The Frost, 354 

The International Sunday-School Lesson, . - . 440 

The Magic Pledge, . . - . - 4^2 

The Mother's Choice, - - . . . 436 

The Nun's Message, ..... 355 

The Pestilence : Vicksburg in 1878, - - - 351 

The Spirit of the Press, . - - . - 360 

The Sting of Poverty, . . . . . 469 

The Ten Commandments, . - . . 377 

The Widow's Vesper H^'mn, - . . . 342 

The Wife's Request, ..... 393 

Thoughts on Death, ...... 426 

To a Friend, on her Wedding Day, ... 445 

To a Mocking Bird, .--.-- 386 

To a Septuagenarian, ..... 448 

To Ivoucile and Eva, ------ 466 

Vashti's Lament, .-..-- 358 

Welcome for the Knights Templar, at Vicksburg, - 406 

PROSE PIECES. 

Past and Present Heroism, . - . . 483 

Prayer, ....... 474 

Sabbath Thoughts, ----- 5^3 

The Dying Soldier, - - - - - - 479 

The First and Last Kiss, - - - - - 514 

The Gambler's Wife, - - - - - - 521 

The Monk's Son, • - - - - . - 496 

The Second Babe, - - - - - - 506 

Washington Irving, ..... 494 

Woman and the Centennial, . - - - - 499 



jfaitl); or ?Bart1)lj) ^aratrise. 



Scenes laid in and around Balliniore and Washington City. 
PERSONS REPRESENTED. 

LrEANDER. [Lion-man.] 

Mary, his wife. 

Faith, their daughter and the heroine. 

Reginald [Strong ruler], Faith's lover and Rosalind's de- 
stroyer. 

Ophei^ia [Serpent], his sister. 

Rev. Dr. Evarard [Strong], President of Female College. 

Professor Gregory [Watchful], Prof, of Female College. 

Theodore [the gift of God], Faith's lover, a Missionary, and 
the hero. 

Humphrey [Protector of the home], the Prisoner. 

Bishop Elmer [Noble], Bishop of the M. E. Church South. 

CelESTine [Heavenly], his Daughter. 

Rosalind [Beautiful as a rose] \ c-^ •„„ „,«^„^« 
Miriam ' "^ Ernng women. 

Gideon [Destroyer], Miriam's destroyer. 

Fidelia [Faithful], the deserted ivife, and Faith's friend. 

Eric [Rich], her husband. 

Hugh [Mind], her youthful lover. 

Hubert [Soul-bright], Faith's lover, and President of the 

United States. 
Lilian [Lily], his sister. 
Honor A [Honorable], his wife. 
Theodoric [Powerful among the people], A Statesman, and 

Fidelia's lever. 
Lawrence [Crowned with laurel], Fidelia' s poet lover. 
Little Theodore, Theodore's and Faith's child. 



2 FAITH, 

ACT I. 

Scene I. — Parental KcJJcciions. 

Mary^ alone: 

Yes! ere another morning's light hath dawn'd 

I shall become a mother. Strange, O strange ! 

The mystery of life ! I know not why, 

But ever and anon all day there breathed 

A spirit-presence 'round al^out me, for 

I could not feel alone ; where'er I turned 

Another l^eing seem'd confronting me. 

And mine a double nature. Thus, no doubt, 

Elizabeth experienced long ago 

When Mary, mother of our Lord, appeared 

Saluting her. I fear not that I'll die ; 

But rather feel that life will just begin, 

Because some one has said, " No woman hath 

Attained perfection in her womanhood 

Until she is a mother." I have thought 

The shrubs themselves must gladden with new life 

Just as they throw their blossoms to the breeze, 

And that a glow of living i)leasure throbs 

Through all the sap- veins of the budding trees. 

Yea! nature's x^arturition draweth nigh, 

And 'tis great honor from the Father's hand 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 3 

That I with her should add one being more 
Unto the creatures that shall tell His praise. 
I almost realize that now I clasp 
A baby-daughter in my arms, and call 
Her Faith, so bright' s the world to me, 
For naught but good in this great scene I see. 
Lemider, entering: 

What! At your musings, Mary? I would think 
Your heart were hlled with dread at near approach 
Of hour of pain and suff 'ring. Would that I 
Could bear this burden for you ! Grandly brave, 
And fondly true the heart must be which shrinks 
Not in an hour like this : and yet you seem 
Uplifted still in some bright spirit-dream. 
As though there dwelt within your frame so weak, 
A pow'r to baffle aught that would depress. 
Mary: 

'Tis nature's compensation thus to deal 
With those whom men deem weak : in time of 
need [love 

Their weakness is their strength ; for God doth 
To stooj) to those who look to Him for aid 
With portion of His strength, as you would love 
To guide the tott'ring footsteps of a child 
That almost falling thinks to cast itself 
Into your waiting arms. 



4 FAITH, 

Leander: Now sleep, my love ! 

For nature calls for rest ; and you will be 

But stronger for your conflict by repose. {She 

sleeps. ) 
L. alone: 

O ! how she teaches Christianity ! 
For He who spoke "as never man can speak " 
Said, " Greater love hath none than this, that he 
Should lay his life down for his friend ; " and she 
Seems not to know the sacrifice she makes 
In risking her's for me. If men could have 
This trusting faith of woman with their strength 
How beautiful would be their characters ! 
Yet each hath sphere distinctive, traits to suit 
Those diff'rent spheres ; and thus 'tis well for both 
To strive to lighten all the cares that fall 
Upon each other. How can men e'er dare 
To lift their hands or voices 'gainst the forms 
That suffer for them as they ne'er can know 
Until Eternity unveils to them 
That suffering' s intensity ? I love 
Her more than when I pressed the first fond kiss 
Upon her brow ; a kiss that thrilled and thrilled 
Throughout my being with its newborn bliss, 
And every throb of quick pulsation filled. 
Until I realized she was my own. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 5 

And I believe this love shall grow, and grow 

'Till it shall be of my own self a part, 

Soul linked to soul, and heart bai^tized of heart. 

'Twill be so sweet to lay our first-born babe 

Upon my arm, and feel another link 

But added to our oneness— Wondrous power ! 

To call a spiiit from another sphere, 

To clothe in flesh, and reckon it our own. 

(^He sleeps.) 
Angels sing : 

Glory! Glory! Glory! Glory! 

Men are striving to be free. 
In theii' daily walk and converse 

Striving now to follow Thee. 
Long within the Father's bosom 

Was the mystery concealed. 
Not to all the waiting angels 

E'en was it once revealed. 

But, at last, in time's great fullness, 

Unto earth a Saviour's giv'n. 
And we now are His blest couriers 

From the pearly gates of Heav'n. 
We will guard your darling treasure 

With our presence e'er in life. 
We will bear her all triumpliant 

Through its every varied strife. 



6 FAITH 



She shall be a child of wonder 

To the denizens of earth, 
For ourselves, and He who made us 

Only can compute her worth. 
O ! we long to bring her to you, 

She's so radiantly fair. 
In her countenance so lovely, 

Heav'n itself 's reflected there. 

Seldom God doth lionor mortals 

With a creature like to her, 
Seldom deigns His utmost mercy 

Such a being to confer : 
And we hasten, gladly hasten . 

To the Glory-throne above — 
Mortals wake you ! quick prepare you ! 

For a gift of wondrous Love. 

Scene II. — Sabbath- Morning in Spring — Going to 

Church — Faith' s Baptism. 
Leander : 

How beauteous the morn ! Just such a day 
As I would consecrate our babe to God : 
For though I know that He still lives and reigns 
In stoim as well as sunshine, yet it seems 
So blest to look abroad upon the earth 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 7 

All radiant with bright sunlight, and to think 

It is His smiling count' nance makes it so. 

Sometimes I love to see a storm-cloud break ' 

In all its madden' d I'uiy o'er the earth : 

How grand the scene when vivid light' nings Hash 

Through all the atmosphere as though it were 

A magazine full charged for God's own touch 

With spark electric ; while tlie mighty crash 

Of jarring thunders rouses frightened soul 

To awful sense of His Omnipotence ! 

Yet, when the storm is past, how blest the calm ! 

How redolent of Mercy and of Love 

The bow that springs up snnling from the earth, 

And links it fast to Heav'n. But O ! a morn 

Superlatively l)eautiful as this 

Seems like tlie offspring of some far-off realm 

We see in dreams : its flow'rs all abloom 

With fragrant beauty, and its turf aglow 

With diamond dew-drops ; while there ever 

comes 
On its soft breath the sweet recurring sense 
That reaches to the very soul, and says. 
This, this is Spring ; and living now is life. 
We' 11 call our darling Mary : ' tis the name 
Of those who loved our Saviour best, when here. 
Of womankind, His mother, and her who 



8 FAITH, 

Once bathed His feet with tears. And then it is 
Yoiir name ; and it is sweet to think she will 
Be like her mother in her nature, and 
In having one to love her as his life 
Some future day. 

Mary : Nay ! I can not consent 

That she shall be named Mary ; though I love 
A name so linked with Deity as that. 
So honored in the fact He deigned to call 
One Mary mother ; yet I must forbear 
To call her so. For ever since the hour 
There throbbed within my heart the conscious- 
ness 
That some bright day within the earliest spring 
A bird from Paradise would nestle in 
My waiting bosom, I have felt 'twould be 
Just as it is, a darling daughter ; and 
A something in my being seemed to say 
She should be called by one, one only name ; 
That name is Faith, name of the grace that lifts 
Earth up to Heav'n, or deigns sometimes to bring 
Heav' n down to earth for one brief moment while 
The soul's ecstatic in its Father's smile. 
Sometimes at night, when you were fast asleep, 
I'd dream such beauteous dreams I could but 
wake 



OR EARTHY PARADISE. 9 

To ponder on their meaning. Once I thought 
The Heav'ns were opened, and a sweet-faced child 
Descending caught me with her little hands, 
And tried to draw me upward ; but I said, 
''I can not leave my husband ; stay with me ! " 
Then quick as thought a band of angels Hashed 
Their shining wings about her fragile form. 
And bore her smiling to a realm beyond ; 
While as they left I heard this answer come : 
"All they who prize their loved ones more than 

Me 
This little one's bright Home can never see ; 
Her name is Faith, she dwells within the sky. 
But she will come again when spring is nigh." 
I did not tell you, for I know that men 
Dislike a woman's dreamings; but I thought 
A deal upon it. And when first they laid 
Our darling babe beside me, how my heart 
But thrilled with Joy ecstatic to behold 
Her face was like the infant' s that I saw 
In heavn'ly vision : and I looked again 
To know I was not dreaming still — And then 
I took its precious meaning to my soul. 
And named her ''Faith." She is no common 

child : 
I can not solve her being's mystery. 



1(> FAITH, 

Nor can I scan her coming destiny ; 
Yet* one thing I believe : she will be strong 
To do or suffer her great Maker's will, 
Within this world ; and dying bear to Heav'n 
A spirit that to earth is seldom giv'n. 

( The enter the church and the habe is haptlzid. ) 

The minister prays : 
O ! Thou in Heav'n whose word did once proclaim 

To favor Abram for his faith in Thee, 
Grant that this child in nature as in name 

May prove e'er faithful in all things to be. 

While yet a babe may she unconscious turn 
The hearts of those who prize her towards Thy 
throne ; 

While but a child may her young sx)irit barn 
To be belov'd of Thee, and of Thine own. 

When youth its snares around shall smiling cast, 
And pleasure wooes her from Thy loved control, 

O ! guard her 'till its dangers all are past. 
And firmly fixed on Thee is her young soul. 

'Mid all life's trials may she faithful stand 
Firm by Thy Word, how hard so e'er it be ; 

And when fulfilled is all life's mission grand, 
O ! take her safely up to Heav'n and Thee. 



on EARTHLY PARADISE. 11 

Angels sing : 

How we love her ! How we love her ! 

She is almost all our own, 
For we only lend her to you 

Prom around the Glory-throne. 
It was here she found her beauty, 

It was here she gained her worth, 
And she is a jirecious treasure 

Far too bright for scenes of earth. 

How we love her ! How we love her ! 

Mortals strive to prize her well, 
For the grandeur of her mission 

Ne'er on earth your hearts can tell : 
But when you have reached the City 

Where she dwelt with us above, 
You shall know her priceless value, 

And the why of God's great Love. 

Scene; III. — A Summer's Morning — Faith at play 

in the yard. 
Mary., alone: 

How sweet she looks ! Her little l)onnet tied 

Encircling all her face, as hazy ring 

Sometimes surrounds the full-orbed moon, which 

shines 



12 FAITH, 

Within the circle like a diamond glows 

When clasped in golden setting. Now she 

jDlucks 
A tiower from off its stem, then waits to see 
How many snowy petals shower down 
A.t her light touch ; then chases for awhile 
The butterlly that erst had stopped to sip 
That ilow'ret's dewy moisture. Like a sprite, 
Her little apron llutt' ring in the breeze 
-As spirit- wings, she passes 'mongst the shrubs. 
And looks uj) wond'ring at the blossoming trees, 
Her little heart all throb])ing with deep love 
For God' s great volume spread before her eyes. 
'Twas but this morn she came and asked me why 
There was such music 'mongst the trees' tall 

boughs 
Whene'er the wind was passing; and how long 
' Twould be before the birds would answer back 
The song she sings for them ; and why the liow'rs 
So sparkle when the sun begins to shine ? 
Her ear detects the slightest llutt' ring of 
The humming-bird, and when the bees rove off 
To gather golden treasures for the hive. 
She throws a piece of netting o'er her face. 
And patient waits to "see how honey's made." 
She stands beside the silver stream and lists 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 13 

As though she heard some meaning in its tone 
Inaudible to other ears ; and when 
The stars are shining bright on cloudless eve, 
She gazes for awhile, then questions how 
' ' The angels take their lamps from out the sky 
When morning comes ? ' ' She never seems alone : 
Tlie world and all therein to her appears 
As some vast Exposition, full of things 
So ])right and beautiful she never grows 
Imjiatient in her searches, but believes ^ 

All things created by a Father's hand. 
And all full worthy of a creature's love. 
Leander, entering with Faith in his arms : 
Come, darling ! tell your mother how you chased 
The sunbeams o'er the clover-tops, and how 
You stayed your hand when father said they 
were [these smiles 

God's smiles; then asked, "Does God send all 
For little Faith r ' I do believe the child 
Will be a prodigy ; she seems so bent 
On studying nature in her every mood. 
She trots along beside me when I go 
Unto the meadow, and calls every lamb 
By some pet name, and thinks it answers back 
Its recognition by a gentle look ; 
And when we pass the stream she stops to see 



14 FAITH, 

"The clouds down in the water" ; when the wind 
Comes briskly by and lifts her bonnet off, 
She says "God's whisj)'ring something in her ear,'' 
And bids me wait 'till she can understand 
The heav'nly message — O ! my j^eerless one ! 
How can my heart e'er thank Him half enough 
For all the dei^ths of love and wisdom He 
Has taught me in thy coming ! I had thought 
That I was grown, and had attained somewhat 
Of man's maturity : but this sweet child 
Hath taught me all the littleness of mind 
Compared unto its heav'nly tenant, soul ; 
And how bright angels love to hover 'round 
The home where liapi)y children dwell. 

{Faith sleeps in her mother'' s arms-.) 

How dread 
The thought that ever grief should dare to fling 
Its pall Tipon her way ; that her glad heart, 
So tuned to nature and to nature's love. 
Should ever mourn in sorrow o'er a lot 
That spirits grosser than her own might make 
Earth-weary. She was born for love as liow'rs 
Are born for sunlight ; and for symjiathy 
As herbage for the dew-drops: she would pine 
Without them as a tree without its roots, 
And all her being show a quick decay. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 15 

But give her these, and our sweet child sliall be 

A marvel in her loveliness as palms 

Which on the i^lains of desert Eastern clime 

Rise grandly up above the burning sand 

To prove 'tis not a God-forsaken land. 

Sometimes I think that slie must never leave 

Her father's dwelling. Sure no other man 

Can ever love her as her father does : 

And I could tear the heart from out the 

form, 
^Vnd trample it beneath my feet in scorn, 
That could essay one angry word or look 
Towards this dear child. The l^easts that roam 

the held 
Were far too good companions for the wretch 
Who'd thus disgrace the very name of brute, 
Which were synonymous with loftiest worth 
Compared to him. The flow'rs may fade away ; 
But when the winds of winter shriek around, 
I'll only clasp her closer to my breast 
To shield her from the storm : and when sweet 

spring. 
Her natal season, with her flowing train 
Sweeps softly o'er the blooming earth again, 
I'll send her forth to join the gladsome throng 



16 FAITH, 

Of sister-fairies as they trij) along 

To gladden nature with their mystic song. 

Mary: 

Sometimes I fear she will not linger here 

Until maturity ; she seems so prone 

To think of things beyond her years, of things 

That well might baffle riper minds than ours. 

For I have seen old people shake their heads 

With solemn look, and say, "'Tis surest sign 

When children are so prematurely bright, 

They can not stay on earth, and only wait 

For welcome tidings from the better land 

To join the angels there." Yet when I think 

Of all the good a gifted one may do 

In tliis woe-stricken world, I can but pray 

Our darling's life may be like summer's day 

Of arctic clime, i^rotracted in its cheer 

' Till night is almost banished from that sphere. 

Her waking hours are full of joy ; and when 

She sleeps 'tis but to dream of brighter things 

Than earth can e'er afford — 'Tis honor grand 

From all- wise heav'nly Father's gracious hand 

To be intrusted with a soul like this : 

And should we prove regardless of that trust, 

' Twere better far we' d crumbled to the dust 

Before she came — Yea ! angels love to come 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 17 

And tlit around the humblest earthly home 
Where sjiirit dwells to which such worth is giv'n, 
For it reminds them of their native Heav'n. 

Angels sing : 

Yes, we linger, love to linger 

' Round your quiet, hax^py home, 
Ever since one from our number 

To your dwelling-place hath come. 
When she wanders in the meadow, 

Where the purling brooklet strays, 
We are ho v' ring 'round about her 

In her lovely, childish plays ; 

When she strives to catch the sunbeam 

With her little outstretched hand, 
We are gazing on her countenance 

By the passing zephyr fanned ; 
And when she essays to warble 

Back a sonnet to the bird, 
We opine it is the sweetest 

Music songster ever heard. 

She is learning now of nature 
What her tender heart must know. 

Ere 'tis all prepared and ready 
Strong in faith and love to grow : 



18 FAITH 



While your care shall tend her body, 
We are wielding sweet control 

O'er the ev'ry thought and feeling 
Chasing through her sunny soul. 

Would you have us linger 'round her? 

Would you have us ever stay ? 
Then repress not aught of gladness 

Of her childhood' s happy May ; 
Let her love all things of beauty, 

Where the angels' feet have trod, 
They will lead her tender spirit 

Nearer unto us and God. 

Scene; IV. — Faith at Her Studies. 

Leander : 

Now, daughter! read: we've followed Virgil's 

verse 
'Till both of us "reclining 'neath the shade 
Of spreading beech," or rural arbor near, 
Might well repose. Read in the Testament ; 
For fancy' s flight hath wearied me ; I long 
For something stabler now to rest upon. 

{She reads lUh chapter of St. JohrCs gospel.) 
Thy mother's favorite chapter ; full of love 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 19 

Of Christ to his dicij)les. Now recess 

' Till she instructs you in your Botany ; 

And when the lamp is lit, and tea is o'er, 

We will essay to study with St. John 

Again those knotty Greek roots, where he tells 

Of when, and where, and what the "Logos", is 

[Bxit Faith. 
L. alone: 

Oh ! how can parents yield to othei" hearts 
And minds alway the rearing of their young, 
And deem their duty done because, forsooth, 
They pay their children's school-bills; when the 

joy 

Of leading them and guiding them aright 

Amid the llo w' rs of Science might be theirs ? 

' Twere sweet to hear a boy or girl recite 

With willing heart, and interested mind 

Those varied lessons. Yet, when that one is 

A child as well as pupil, how we love 

To note the pleasure beaming in their eyes 

At deeds of noble virtue ; or to see 

The look of pride that settles there when care 

And labor have enabled them to grasp 

Some grand idea latent in the verse. 

They first had j)ass'd unheed'd. How we learn 

To realize the greatness of those rules 



20 FAITH, 

That not content to measnre all of earth, 

Must grasj) the heav'ns themselves in mighty 

sway, 
And trace out times and paths for all the stars ! 
Not satisfied with facts that figures give, 
The mind, by signs and letters, would essay 
New proi)erties to find in reck'nings old. 
And then when we would leave the real world, 
And dwell in the ideal, how it cheers 
Our wand' rings there for kindred heart and mind 
To bear us company ! How for awhile 
We scarce remember we are made of clay. 
As leaving earth behiud we soar away 
Into the regions of an endless day. 
Methinks my child will bear the impress deep 
Of all these hours upon her heart and mind 
So long as she may live : yea, I believe 
The turn I give her thoughts and feelings now 
May fix her destiny for hell or heav' n ; 
Not that I am a fatalist ; but how 
Can we expect the truth to vegetate. 
And yield its fruit within a heart that ne'er 
Has heard of its importance? Do we look 
" For figs on thistles " ; or do we expect 
The bloom of troi)ics on the desert sands ? 
Then why should parents leave to other hearts. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 21 

Not half SO dear as tliey, the noble task 

Of teaching chiklreit what tliey owe to God, 

And country, to their parents and themselves ? 

Once I beheld a ragged x:)auper boy 

Ask alms of one the world calls rich and good — 

But I consider him both poor and mean — 

Who spurned him from his ju'esence with a sneer. 

Oh ! T can ne'er forget the look of scorn 

That struggled for a moment in the eye 

Of that proud boy ; 'twas like the glare that 

lights 
Volcano's crater ere the burning tide 
Of lava sweeps in desolation wide 
Adja(^ent country. I would hate to call 
Forth such a look from any human soul. 
A lady — may God bless her loving heart — 
Then called the boy and bade him go with her : 
When next I saw him he was seated where 
A throng of children met to worshi]) God, 
In tasteful garb repeating the Lord's prayei". 
And now I learn his name is reckoned high 
Upon the lists of fame, and great men go 
To hear the swell of oratory's flow 
That glides in torrents from his gifted tongue ; 
And he who spurned him once is proud to call 
His name among acquaintances. This proves 



22 FAITH 



How very wrong it is to jud^e of one 
By mere appearances ; and how that scores 
We deem inferiors, with the slightest chance 
Would rise beyond our reckoning ; how the 

worth 
Of gifted creatures may be crushed beneath 
Man's cruel meanness, or how it may shine 
Resplendent as the diamond by the aid 
Of but a few kind words and deeds, that grow 
In noble souls like seeds in mellow soil 
Quick yielding sweetest fruitage for one's toil, 
I knew a man whom none had ever deemed 
Had faintest spark of poetry's blest tire 
In his rough constitution ; and yet he 
Was often heard to say he sympathized 
With women, for they had no privilege 
To choose whom they should love, as men 

may do ; 
But must content themselves with one of those 
Who them select — or never love at all. 
Did Plato dream, did Socrates aspire 
To higher flight in great philosophy ? 
His good old Christian heart had caught the glow 
Of love that dwells beyond dark Jordan's flow, 
And longed that earth its radiance, too, should 

know. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 23 

I've seen a woman whom the world called proud, 
And cold, and heartless, stoop amid the throng 
That jostled by, to aid a drunken man 
Regain his footing ere the night came on, 
And he was left to die. I've seen her place 
A tract within his hand, in kindest tone 
Assure him if he'd read it he would find 
Sweet comfort there ; while other ladies sneered 
As they passed on. I've seen him read, and read 
That tract again till God was pleased to smile 
Upon that wayward sinner and recall 
Him back to home and duty : " Inasmuclt 
As ye have done it to the least of these ^ 
' Twasdone to me," rings out so loud and clear 
' Twould almost seem the deaf its sound might 

hear. 
I've seen a girl with more than common worth 
Wiio would not stoop to grovel in the mire 
Of worldly wisdom, as with heart sincere 
She strove to do her Maker's will on earth. 
I've heard the bitter taunt of sland'rous tongue 
In iiendish pleasure gloating o'er the woe 
That tongue had cost her as she struggled on, 
Now doubly lone in duty's trying path. 
I've seen her neighbors turn away their eyes 
To those scarce worthy to unlatch her shoes 



24 FAITH, 

With knowing look, whene'er she dared ap- 
proach. 
I've seen her in an agony of soul, [room, 

When gaping world was shut from out her 
With streaming eyes fall on her knees to beg 
For further patience 'neath her mighty grief — 
For she was of my kindred. — Then I've seen 
A man the world was anxious to befriend. 
And shower down its compliments u]3on, 
Because of his possessions ; but whose worth 
Was just as far beyond his wealth as stars 
Above the stream that doubles them, essay 
To find the secret cause of this great wrong. 
I've seen him seek her side when others smiled, 
Pretending care for her that they might snare 
His heart with wily love-arts, till he found 
An answer to the problem : then he poured 
The garnered worth of all his manhood's prime, 
His golden treasures, and the priceless wealth 
Of his great heart an off' ring at her shrine. 
The world was much perplexed ; and mothei s 

looked 
Upon their daughters with a strange surprise 
That thus he should have chosen. But he said, 
"I've found the treasure I have long desired. 
And I am happy ; for she is not bought 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. • 25 

• 

With hopes of golden gewgaws to adorn 
Her looks ; her soul is mate to mine ; and we 
Would still be happy were my wealth to flee." 
And O ! the heav'nly peace that dVv^elt within 
Her heart, and shone upon her face, as years 
But proved to her his soul's exceeding worth — 
For sorrow but reflned, not hardened her — 
And all through life ' twas their delight to tind 
Some stricken one of womankind to cheer 
With their brave love and holy sympathy. 
I've often thought I'd have my darling child 
Like this sweet woman in her noble worth ; 
But O ! I shrink from thought that she should live 
To ever be so tried as Mabel was. 
And yet it seems that God designs for all, 
Who may a blessing prove unto the world. 
Some crucible of sorrow, some deep woe 
No human aid can reach ; but which His hand 
Can heal enough to make it but redound 
To His own glory, and to mortals' good. 

• 

Angels sing: 
Can you doubt it ? Can you doubt it ? 

That He's able still to guide 
All your darling daughter's footsteps 

Whatsoever may betide ? 



26 FAITH, 

Can you dare to doubt His goodness ? 

Can you dare to doubt His truth ?— 
He who taught her infant prattle 

Still can shield her dawning youth 



He can cast her sunny pathway 

Where no harm can ever come, 
He can bring her 'mid all dangers 

Safely still to find her Home : 
He can lead her by " still waters" 

Where her heart can know but peace. 
He can guide her through the storm-waves, 

And yet bid her sorrows cease. 



Never doubt it ! Never doubt it ! 

All the love your Father gives, 
While you dwell in earthly day- house, 

Never while your spirit lives ; 
While the stars continue shining, 

While the ocean's billows roll. 
Never, while the world endureth 

Suffer doubts to dim your soul. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 27 

Scene V. — Family prayer. 

{Faith having recited her Greek lesson, the 
family kneel in prayer.) 

Leander prays: 

O Thou ! who didst ordain the family 

As guardian of our precious faith 'till time 

Should circling bring forth governments, look 

down 

In tender love and mercy on us here, 

As gathered ' round Thy footstool we would beg 

For grace divine to lead us on through life. 

Pour out Thy Spirit's plent'ous fullness on 

Each heart now in Thy presence : let us feel 

Each gifted with the very grace each needs 

To well fulfill its mission. May she be, 

The mother of the household, like the vine 

That planted by deep waters lifts its head 

With richest fruitage freighted for the hand 

Of harvest reaper ; while our darling child 

But grows in years and deeds like unto her. 

As years move on to bear us both away, 

The parent-stems that prop her graceful form, 

But leaving her more beautiful still in deeds 

That tell her Maker's praise. And O ! may he 

Whom Thou hast condescended thus to bless 

With honor of such household's head, e'er be 



28 FAITH 



In all his words and actions true to Thee, 
And to Thy counsels. May he ever bear 
Along with him the thoughts of Thy intent, 
Thy matchless love and wisdom thus to give 
Such vast responsibility to him ; 
And like a faithful servant may he be 
Prepared and ready when the summons comes 
To give account of all his "stewardship." 
Look down upon this weary sin-struck earth 
As when with pitying heart Thou didst behold 
The tomb of Bethany, with loving eye, 
Then melted down to human weakness, wept'st. 
Yet cried' st with Grodlike voice : ''•Lazarus come 

forth!'' 
While weeping sisters, and the multitude 
In wond'ring silence could but bow unto 
The majesty of Thy Divinity. 
Thus speak to all earth's citizens, now "dead 
In trespasses and sins," until their hearts 
But thrilling 'neath the magic of Thy voice, 
Shall step forth joyously from living tombs 
To take their places ' mid the glorious throng 
Of earth's redeemed — while ages onward roll, 
Refitting earth for its primeval bloom. 
And Eden-glory. Bear Thy precious Word 
Wherever waters roll, or wind -tides sweep, 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 29 

Wherever tropic suns gild with bright blaze, 
Or frigid snows but lengthen out the days ; 
There send Thy chosen messengers with news 
Of Thy salvation : 'till all earth shall bound 
With thrill electric to the gladsome sound ; 
While to our Triune God each heart shall ])ring 
On that great day its lifetime offering. 

Scene VI. — Faith at College — Reginald' s Love. 

( Professor Gregory approaching President Eoa- 
rard^ hands him a letter from Reginald to 
Faith.) 

Professor Gregory: 

I much regret, indeed ! to find that one 

Of our young ladies is a pupil now 

Of Reginald as well as of ourselves : • 

He's teaching her the mystic art of love ; 

In which I've heard it said he's quite expert. 

These verses, you'll observe, are breathing with 

A passion that may call forth answ'ring one 

In Faith's young heart. It might be welcome 

change 

From sines and co-sines, double aorists ; 

For love to one like her doth oft appear 

As gorgeous landscape flooded with soft light 

To artist's eye. A courier brought tliem here. 

And waits an answer by the evening's train. ■ 



30 FAITH 



{To Faith.) 

President Evarard reads : 

I'm dreaming of thee! I am dreaming of thee ! 
Time never can banish thine image from me ; 
A star on life's ocean it sweetly arose 
To gild all my jileasiires, and lighten my woes. 

Dost think that my heart could e'er wish to forget 
When first in its gladness that image was met, 
When ere the bright visions of youth-time were 

past 
Within its fond tendrils that image was clasped ? 

No, never ! ' Mid breakers of sorrow and care, 
I look to that beacon, and can not despair ; 
And when love and friendship my j^athway en- 
twine, 
I turn from the picture to gaze upon thine. 

I'm dreaming of thee ! And the vision shall last 
So long as fond mem' ry illumines the past ; 
For all the bright wealth of the fathomless sea 
Could n't purchase the dream that I cherish of 
thee. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 31 

r m dreaming of thee ! O ! but answer my love, 
And all that is noble and gallant, I'll prove ; 
Thy name with my own I am longing to twine — 
My fortune, my heart, and my hopes are all thine. 

Yours devotedly, 
Reginald. 
President Eimrard, : 

I'll speak unto her father ; what he says 
Shall be my guide ; for I have never seen 
A man more tenderly devoted to 
A child than he to her. I'm sure he would 
Disdain that she should trespass on our rules ; 
And yet methinks if she should love this man, 
He's far too fond of her to cross that love : 
So we' 11 refer the matter unto him. 

{Leander enters.) 
Pres. Evarard rising to meet him, : 
Good morning. Sir ! I'm very glad you've come. 
We've just consulted on a subject here 
Which you can best decide ; what do you say 
To teachings such as this for your fair child ? 

{Leander reads the letter, then folds and, places 

it in his pocket.) 
Leander : 

She's far too young to think of such a thing 
As loving any one : beside she's not 



32 FAITH, 

Completed yet her education. If 
You please, I' 11 take her home with me awhile ; 
An I when she comes again you may be sure 
No vestige of this love-song shall remain 
Within her heart ; though she shall know it all. 
She's far too good, and bright, and beautiful 
To lavish her heart's wealth on such as he ; 
For none but noblest of the human race 
Shall ever bear my peerless one from me. 

[Exetint all. 

Scene VII. — Home Agahi — Faith's Vozv. 

Leander : 

My daughter ! I am much surprised that you 

Should list that lordling's worthless love 'Tis 

true 
He comes of proudest ancestry, and looks 
On common people much as merest slaves 
To do his bidding ; and he's handsome too, 
And toFrably proficient in those arts 
We style polite accomplishments : and yet 
There lurks a something in his eye and mien 
That never could be trusted. I regard 
That eye as but the "window of the soul" ; 
For when the spirit' s paltry, low or mean 
That littleness is sure reflected seen 



OR EAllTHLY PARADISE, 33 

In its possessor's glance, e'en when he tries . 

To stifle such expression. Then I've heard 

Him Sjjeak in such a disrespectful way 

Of "women, and their weaknesses," I'm sure 

He's never known what 'twas to dwell about 

The noblest of their sex, and could not learn 

To rightly estimate the worth of such, 

E'en were that one his own. He thinks it all 

Significant of manhood that he wears 

The pantaloons, and swaggers round the streets 

With curled mustache, and choicest cigarette, 

With bow polite to every passing belle. 

And sneer but ill-disguised at plainer maid 

That chances by. Why, such a being sure, 

As Nicodemus wand' ring said of old. 

Would needs be "born again" ; and then 'twould 

take 
A thousand years' tuition, more or less. 
To educate him up to manhood's worth. 
He might, perhaps, supply the "missing link," 
As Darwin says, between the ape and man ; 
And even then it would be hard I think 
To tell exactly where the link began. 
Some men who dare insult a thinking world, 
And Heav'n, assuming care of families. 
Remind one of the sea-bear, kind enough 



34 FAITH, 

Unto their offspring, yet unfeeling towards 

The mother of that offspring — When, O ! when 

Shall earth attain such moral excellence 

That this, like other perjury, shall meet 

The scowl indignant of an outraged law 

Of all humanity, and skulk away 

Into congenial, native Tartarus ? 

We do not read that ever Christ essayed 

One bitter word to all of womankind ; 

And he who's noblest, truest, best to them 

Is nearest Christlike in his spirit's mould. 

And I'd prefer my child, if e'er she weds. 

Should link her fate to one of Adam's sons 

As noble as herself ; for I believe 

We owe a duty to x>osterity. 

In that our race should not degenerate, 

But grow resplendent, Godlike, as the years 

Go sweeping on towards earth' s habiliment 

In nobler grab. 

Faith : Now I can understand 

Why I e'er shrank from his advances when 
He would have seemed most courteous : for a 

spell, 
I knew not what seemed drawing me away 
From all his words whene'er he dared apjiroach. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 35 

Mary : 

' Twas that blest sense of intuition, giv'n 

By nature to the best of womankind, 

To warn us of earth's dangers, and to save 

Our feet from snaring evils on life's way. 

It must have been when angels guarding stood 

To keep poor Eve from out fair Eden's bowers, 

That pitying her in all her deep distress, 

They gave her this pure sense as talisman 

Against earth's dangers; as requital, too. 

In part, for all the joys she there had lost. 

Yes, I remeinber him, young Reginald ! 

' Twas he who brought the news of "Mabel's 

fate" 
Unto the City, as he sneering termed 
The fact that she'd been slandered ; and he said, 
"Tliat none could now be trusted since she'd 

fall'n." 
No ! no, my child ! Though he were now a king. 
And we were but his vassals, rather far 
Would I assist in placing you beneath 
Some friendly sod than know you were his wife, 
I love to see a true aristocrat. 
Who knows that in his veins there circling flows 
The blood of noble fathers, and who feels 
' Tis but a debt he owes that ancestry 



36 FAITH 



To render it still nobler in his own. 

Such beings well are fit to lead the throng 

Of common mould to higher aims in life 

Than otherwise they might attain ; and such 

Ne'er feel the vulgar need to boast their line 

In other people's ears ; for all men know 

That only noblest blood could bring such stock. 

Sometimes the merest accident may place 

A very common man upon the toj) 

Of Fortune's wheel — who then j^retends to be 

A native-born aristocrat. His mode 

Of proving this reminds us of attempt 

Of dressed-up monkey in a circus-ring 

To play the part of nation's president : 

As monkey, he were sure a prodigy— 

As president, a minus quantity. 

But when a man depends on proud descent, 

Without a corresponding lofty worth, 

To take him through a work-day world like this, 

' T were like some one should build a splendid ship. 

And rig her out with everything she needs 

To make her beaut' ous to the eye, and yet, 

By some strange freak, should bid her walk the 

waves 
Without the motive pow'r. Would she not be 
The taunt of rudest sailor on the sea, 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 37 

And but the sport of every wind and wave ? 
But give her steam — the sense of innate worth— 
And see how proudly o'er the depths she bears, 
While every noble soul her triumph shares. 
I am a woman, and I know her needs : 
Her heart, and all her feelings, and her worth. 
I fear the man more than a reptile who 
Can lightly speak of woman's virtue, or 
Who gloats in secret o'er her tarnished name. 
The serpent only bites ; that bite may heal : 
But sland'rous tongue can make a festering 

wound 
That all the " balm of Gilead " scarce can 'suage. 
And he wdio loves to hear a slander, waits 
But opportunity to make one too, 
And woe unto the woman, then, who falls 
A victim in his path. To have her wed 
To such a being 's like to seeing one 
In blooming health tied to a putrid corpse. 
That terrifies and drives away all friends 
Who otherwise might come to cheer her way. 
Leander : 

Why should our darling ever leave her home ? 
' Tis true, 'tis not magnificent nor grand. 
Nor noted for its splendor far and wide ; 
Yet precious one ! 'tis such a resting-place 



38 FAITH 



As kings themselves might sometimes yearn to 

own, 
When wearied of a pompous, regal fate. 
They fain would find some sure and snug retreat 
From outside world with all its hollow show, 
Where none but hearts they know full well are 

true 
Could dare invade their sacred j)rivacy. 
You'd scarcely feel while here, I think, the want 
Of sisters' tenderness or brothers' love 
By lieav'n denied you ; for our waiting hearts 
Would answer every feeling of thine own 
With kindred one. I know no goodlier sight 
Than that of daughter, grown to years mature. 
Who nestles sweetly in the parent home 
Without desiring ever thence to roam. 
It may be selfish of me ; yet I shrink 
From thoughts of yielding thee, as soldier shrinks 
From losing his right arm when battle's nigh. 
When but a little boy I knew a girl, 
Or, rather, gentle woman, who thus stayed 
With aged father. Every one who saw 
Their true and fond alfection could but feel 
A thrill of love for both, so beautiful 
Was their devotion to each other. He 
Was one of nature's noblemen; his brow 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 39 

So high and fair, was crowned with silver bloom ; 
While in the depths of liquid, si^eaking eyes, 
Benevolence and dignity were blent 
As sometimes light and shade in sunset's glow ; 
As two shii^s when far off on the sea. 
And sailing side by side, appear as one. 
His love for her had taught him love for all 
Of womankind. Her virtues, in his eyes, 
Were but the virtues of her sex, yet which 
Seemed dearer far l^ecause she was his child ; 
And when he spoke of ' ' Inez, ' ' sure no lute 
E'er breathed in minor key a sweeter note. 
Her mother died when she was young, and thus 
She grew to womanhood regarding him 
As all to her of earth. Her oval face 
Was set in semicircle of light brown. 
That waved about her forehead as the sea 
Caresses Southern shore ; and her soft eyes 
Looked lovingly on him as twinkling stars 
Look earthward on a cloudless summer's eve. 
Her beauty was reflected in his face. 
His dignity reflected back in hers ; 
And all the neighbors said a lovelier pair 
Could not be found upon earth anywhere. 
Mary: [here 

Yes, daughter! 'twould be sweet to have you 



40 FAITH, 

Alway with us : and yet we could not bind 
Our joyous bird a pris'ner in her home, 
Should worthy songster come to woo her hence, 
And she should tind sweet refuge in his breast. 
The world would miss the music of her notes, 
Without her mate; and she would beat the bars 
Of binding fate till her own heart would break. 
1 look ujion the marriage of our child 
As something in the future possible, 
Tliough far from probable : yet when I think 
Of all the joy my own fond heart hath known 
In loving, and in being loved by one 
So worthy of my spirit's choice, I dare 
Not say that she must never love. The thought 
Of her e'er wedding one unworthy, strikes 
As keenest dagger to my throbbing breast : 
And yet should one, the noblest of his kind, 
With soul and mental nature half divine. 
And heart all pulsing with his own deep love 
For God and country, and his spirit's choice, 
Like Joseph Fry^ who could a hero prove 
In every scene of life, yet grander far, 
Eclipse himself, as noon eclipses star. 
In dying heroism, e'er come to woo, 
Dost think I could refrain from blessing him 
As Sarah once blessed Isiuic ? I would look 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 41 

With fondest pride upon our only son, 
And love him for his worth, and for the fact 
That he loved mine : Fd clasx) her trembling hand 
With warmth when giving her away, and feel 
That she was nobler having won his love, 
And dearer bearing such a hero's name. 
But let us not again converse of this ; 
The subject's fraught with sadness : years will 

come 
Before she e'er will wish to leave her home — 
Our only babe, O ! let us prize the hours 
While here she lingers 'mid parental bow'rs. 

{^Exeunt Leander and Mary. 
Faith alone : 

No ! I can never leave my parents who 
So tenderly devote their every thought 
And feeling to my welfare. All the wealth 
That kings may claim were but poor recompense 
For this my crown of glory : all the love 
That suitor e'er could give but merest drop 
Compared unto the broad, majestic tide 
Of pure affection welling from their hearts, 
As mountain-currents leap from snowy homes 
In sep'rate streams, yet mingle as they flow 
On towards the ocean of Eternity. 
To leave the roof presided o'er by one 



42 FAITH, 

So noble in liis nature, and by one 
So conversant with woman's every thought, 
And hope and feeling, and her every need, 
Were like to one who in delirious dream 
Should flee his home, his kindred, and his friends. 
To wander forth an exile o'er the world : 
Or like some star deserting its own sphere 
And gravitating force should sweep away 
Into illimitable space, and And— 
Alas ! too late to e'er return again — 
That it was lost forever. I will give 
My heart unto the God my parents love. 
My mind to closest study as the years 
Pass swiftly on, until they both shall learn 
The happy girl they deem a birdling now 
Has grown to be a woman of such mould 
As they themselves may well delight to call 
Their daughter : one in whom their loving hearts 
Can e'er repose as sunbeams seek the flow'rs, 
And nestle there through all the springtime hours. 
O ! 'twill be sweet when they are growing old, 
And long to plume their wings for brigliter sphere, 
When earth shall bring no joy except my smile, 
And heav'n is softly wooing them the while. 
To aid their tott'ring footsteps as they stand 
Upon the borders of the "'better land," 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 43 

And hear their accents as they How to me, 
Their best-belov'd, like music on the sea 
When to the harp some minstrel's touch is giv'n, 
And earth itself seems merging into heav'n. 
While thus engaged I sure might well dispense 
With joys of married love, and cheering sound 
Of children's prattle, as the years sweep on 
But wliisp' ring softly that my duty's done. 
Yes, I am young ! But something tells me now 
Earth was not made for Deity's pastime, 
Nor for an empty dream existence giv'n : 
Both were designed as training-schools for heav'n. 

Angels sing: 

Well we knew it ! Well we knew it ! 

When you were a little child. 
That the world could ne'er entangle 

You within its meshes wild. 
Oft we flashed our shining j)inions 

' Round you when you gladly played. 
Oft we fanned you with those pinions 

As you slumbered in the shade. 

Oft we softly glided near you 

As you i)rattled in your glee, 
Oft we answered back your sonnets 

As a songster from the tree ; 



44 FAITH, 

And when storms began to gather. 
And the sunlight all to fade, 

We would haste you till you smiling 
On your mother's breast was laid. 

Oft when you had nearly tumbled 

From the bank into the brook, 
We were there to bind your body 

With a potent magic look, 
Till you could regain your footing ; 

Then in tone we loved so well, 
We would hear you softly whisper 

To yourself, " I like to fell ! " 

O ! ' tis sweet to guard a treasure 

That the angels well may love ! 
O ! ' tis blest to guide a being 

That may earthly blessing prove ! 
Then while life is smiling ' round you, 

And its scenes are all so bright, 
Listen to the holy teachings 

That we bring from fields of light. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 45 

ACT II. 

Scene I. — Faith at College Agai7i. 

{The charge to the graduating class.) 
President Eoarard : 

Young ladies ! There will be a crowd to liear 
Your essays read this evening ; and I hope 
That each will feel herself much honored by 
The presence of an audience so vast, 
And so distinguished. Let your tones be clear,. 
And loud enough, that each within the hall 
May grasp the meaning of each uttered word ; 
For ' tis a poor return for int'rest shown 
In others' efforts when we fail to learn 
What they are saying. I've two bosom friends 
Who will be present that I wish to hear 
Each sentence read : one is a worldly man 
Who long has bowed at pleasure's shrine, and 

found 
It insufficient for his spirit's need ; who now 
Stands trembling on the verge of ruin, yet 
Who dreads to trust to better things, for fear 
They, too, may turn to ashes in his grasp, 
A word in season rightly understood. 
From heart and lips he can but know are pure, 
May rouse him to some nobler view of life ; 



46 FAITH, 

For 'tis a mighty x)ow'r true women wield 

Upon the hearts and lives of thinking men. 

The other is a man whom any one 

Might well be X)roud to reckon as a friend. 

He's young and gifted, and his life so far 

Without the slightest blemish ; he has quaffed 

Deep draughts from foimt Pierian, and his soul 

Has basked in sunshine of his Maker's love : 

But in his mind a contest strong is waged 

Between a sense of sacred duty and 

The claim of other duties : one would bear 

Him far away to distant clime to preach 

The Gospel, while another weeping pleads 

In broken accents for his native land. 

He stands between them, undecided, while 

The harvest ripens for him on each hand. 

O ! could some fitly spoken word but lodge 

By accident within his heart to-night. 

How it might sprout and vegetate until 

His being grew resplendent in its bloom, 

And other hearts earth-weary learned to prize 

The subtle essence of its sweet perfume. 

' Tis known full well that you would scorn to 

read 
The thoughts of others palmed off as your own. 
And all will list intently as we do 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 47 



When spring's first songsters chirp from out the 

grove, 
Each warbling forth the notes it best may love. 

[Exeunt all. 



Scene II. — Commencement Exercises. 

{Faith reads the Valedictory — Baccalaureate 

Address. ) 
Faith reads : 

Respected Audience ! It may seem that when 

A scene like this presents itself to youth 

' Twere all of gladness : yet to me it brings 

Reflections sad, just ready now to yield 

The ties of school-girl days, and enter in 

Another, wider sphere. And as I think 

Of this great change so fraught with weal or woe, 

My spirit asks : What is the Aim of Life f 

Is it to join the festive throng who glide 

Along on pleasure's current, thinking naught 

Beyond their own enjoyment? Or to live 

Shut out from earth, disdaining all its joys. 

As sages once in deep philosophy [quaff 

Dreamed dreams of men and nature? — Or to 

From richest founts of knowledge, till the 

mind 



48 FAITIT, 

All surfeited with its own depths shall scorn 

To dwell with other mortals ? — Or to sweep 

Some wondrous harx) until the world entranced 

Stops short in all its reckonings to keep 

Sweet time to that grand music, and to clasp 

To its great heart the gifted minstrel bard ? 

Is it to climb the mountain-tops to see 

The glory of the Godhead shower' d down 

Upon those lofty heights, and then to sink 

Again to life of uselessness to earth ? 

Is it to glide upon life's summer-sea 

As some frail bark without a destined port, 

That loosing anchor proudly sails away. 

And ne'er is heard of more ? Is it to be 

Content like other minds to j)lod along 

Regardless of our lofty destiny, 

And die and be forgotten as the beasts ? — 

Or is it not to think, and pray, and strive 

With each untoward circumstance until 

The soul can grasp the secret link that binds 

Its nature unto God ; and then pursue 

The thread of that companionship until 

It finds itself again about His throne ? 

' Twere vain to look for happiness in fame : 

' Tis but the Father's gift to gild one's name 

With earthly greatness, and the heart will break 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 49 

That dares to banish Duty for its sake. 

Created beings act through certain laws ; 

And he wiio would eschew his spirit's worth, 

And level down his nature to the brute, 

Will spend his life in pleasure. He who looks 

Upon that spirit as the grandest gift 

Within the pow'r of Deity to give, 

A gift 'twould bankrupt earth to once bestow, 

Will guide his actions by that spirit's laws, 

And in so doing find his earthly bliss. 

These laws are clearly traced in Holy Writ ; 

And yet, as if to make them doubly clear, 

They breathe in nature's teachings, as the air 

Upholds our being though we see it not. 

The influence of these laws is wooing us 

Forever on towards Duty when we'd stray, 

Just as the sun exerts his mighty pow'r 

Upon the earth when at aphelion point. 

Without that power 'twould bound away in 

space, 
A mighty wreck 'mongst universal worlds. 
Yea ! they who mock at spirit-intlu'nce would 
Have doul)ted its blest truth when on the head 
Of Christ Divine the Heav'nly Spirit clothed 
In form of dove descended, and a voice 
Said, " Thi^ is my beloved Son In lohovi 



50 FAITH, 

/ am well pleased; hear Hwi.'''' It breathes 

throiighont 
The universe in such a quiet way 
That infidels but measuring Deity 
By their own puny worth, disdain to see 
Its secret cause of often such effects 
As bid the angels cease their Glory-song, 
And look with wonder on. Redemption is 
The keystone of Creation^ s arch! They who 
Reject it, as their prototypes, the Jews, 
Shall be confounded in their wisdom, while 
The world sweeps on, each age but adding to 
"That house not made with hands," "His tem- 
ple in 
The skies," another glorious block hewed out 
In grand design before creation was. 
O ! what can fill that longing in man's soul 
For something better than this world affords, 
When measured out in all its richest worth. 
Save God and Heav'n? A child may play with 

toys, 
And be delighted ; but a full-grown man 
Perceives in time with all its fleeting joys 
A nothingness complete compared to hope 
Of life beyond. — How is this life attained? 
Ah ! this the question that has filled the mind 



OR EARTHLY PARADTRE. 5l 

With deepest thought since Abram laid his child, 
The child of promise, on the funeral pile. 
And purchased heav'n by his unearthly faith. 
This, this the query that oft roused the soul 
Of early Christians to such heroism 
They willing died brave martyrs at the stake : 
And this the thought that strengthen' d Luther's 

heart. 
When boldly battling for the Spirit's cause, 
He sought and won the world's enfranchisement. 
This, too, the question that in our own day 
Arouses students at the midniglit hour 
To ponder o'er its answer. — Can it be 
They e'er can doubt the meaning of that Word 
Which ringing down the ages cries aloud : 
" Go, preach the Gospel in its wondrous woi^th 
To every creature ' ' dwelling on the earth f 
I see him now, one of that chosen band, 
With heart all full of love to God and man. 
And soul the Spirit loves communings with, 
Embarking on his mission. Deep beneath 
That honored vessel sleep the boist'rous waves. 
And high above her pathway in the skies 
The God of nature hangs his beacon-lights. 
The winds play softly 'round her as she sails 
Away from all he claims of earth and home. 



52 FAITH, 

And God and Heav'n are wliisp'ring in the gales 
Of distant land where he may chance to roam. 
A pow'r the worldling ne'er may dare to claim 
Ui)holds liim as he bravely bids adieu 
To earthly pleasures, and bright angels guide 
That steamer's pathway ocean's billows through. 
I see him stand in burning Eastern clime 
With head uncovered as the heathen throng 
To hear those thrilling tones of God's own grace, 
And listen to his glorious gospel-song. 
I see him sink in death in that far land : 
And yet it is not death — for lo ! there stand 
Bright hosts of angels with their shining wings. 
Who list intently as he sweetly sings 
Of his Redeemer's love — Then circle 'round 
His precious spirit, now from earth unbound, 
And gladly bear it homeward to the sky 
While earth is filled with Heaven's own min- 
strelsy. 

{To her Teachers and School-mates.) 
Respected Teachers and lov'd School-mates ! how 
The heart grows sad in bidding you adieu ! 
For years we've wander' d on together through 
The fields of thought, and liow'rs of fancy too, 
Until our souls have grown akin. We've roved 
Together 'mid bright scenes that heroes loved 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 53 

In ages past, and climbed the sacred mount, 
Olympus, where the deities once dwelt ; 
Togetlier learned the ruin and decay [stars, 

Of all their greatness. We hav(3 watched tlie 
And measured pathways for them in the sky : 
We've tested use of algebraic signs. 
Of angle, circle, and hypothenuse. 
Of sines, and co-sines, and of logaritlims. 
Until our minds grew weary of the play 
Of endless figures and we sought repose 
In flowing numbers of the Mantuan bard. 
We've delved beneath earth's surface there to 

lind 
The fossils of anterior ages ; then 
Traced out the meaning of the rainbow's hues. 
We've talked in floral language as we strayed 
In blooming meads ; then strove to find the laws 
Controlling our own minds and reason's pow'rs. 
We've gathered knowledge from the varied rules 
That govern composition, till we found 
That genius might itself be almost lost 
Beneath its careful dressing ; then we've learned 
How flesh and bone compose these human frames 
So fitly joined together : then essayed 
To understand the mighty weight of proof 
Attending test of Christianity, 



54 FAITH, 

When enemies would dare assail its truth. 
But, more than all of these, we have been taught 
The mighty meaning of its doctrines' power 
When God's own Spirit breathes into the soul ; 
Have learned to gaze abroad upon His earth, 
And find it but expression of His Love ; 
And in the pages of His wondrous Book 
For peace, and joy, and guidance e'er to look. 
When shall we meet again f—0 ! shall it be 
While earth and earthly scenes are smiling ' round; 
Or shall we meet beside the "crystal sea," 
When each a heav'nly home has gladly found % 
Shall life a failure prove to us who now 
Are gather'd in this sacred parting-place, 
Shall sorrow's furrows gather on each brow, 
And shadows creep o'er each young loving face I 
Or shall we live for each to worthy prove 
Of God's, of parents', and preceptors love, 
Until we meet again, no more to tell 
That sad, that solemn word — farewell — farewell ! 

President Eoarard^ handing Diplomas : 
Take these, the emblems of proficiency 
In studies you've delighted to pursue : 
They'll be to you as starlight to the sea. 
Which cheers the sailor through night's dark- 
some hours ; 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 55 

While chart of Holy Writ shall be your guide 
To yon fair port where bloom eternal flow'rs. 

{To the Audience.) 
It is no easy task to train the minds 
Of girls to highest duty : for the world 
Hath thrown such sophistry around the rules 
That reason dictates for the other sex, 
When we'd apply the same in teaching them, 
That few without much extra care and 23ains 
Can realize the grandeur of their sphere. 
Sometimes we hnd one who from earliest years 
Has had some lofty intuition giv'n, 
Or has been taught so young the precious truth 
' Tis easy for her thus to realize 
How holy is her mission. Such as these 
Grasp knowledge with a keen and eager zest 
As starving beggars catch at bits of bread ; 
And teaching them is like to pointing out 
From mountain-tops the valleys sjDread below, 
In all their bloom and beauty, to the eye 
Of artist-soul, that gathers in each glance 
Some glimpse of glory others may not see, 
And lays it by within his storehouse, mind, 
That it may be wrought out some future day 
In gem of art that shall applauded be : 
Or like to breathing music of fond love 



56 FAITH, 

Into a poet's heart, that echoes back 

Each thrilling tone of earthly melody 

In wondrous lay of sweetest minstrelsy, 

Till each who hears shall bless him in his heart, 

Whose heav'n-born song can bliss divine impart. 

'Tis noble mission woman's coming hath 

In this sad world ! When earth was new and 

bright. 
And never had been tainted by a sin, 
When Heav'n itself was but reflected there. 
And joys of Paradise in Eden dwelt. 
One thing was wanting : ' twas comyanionship 
Of marC s soul-nature lolth a kindred one ; 
And Deity, with fuller knowledge of 
His every need than he can e'er attain, 
While here, then brought a being fair, and gave. 
Whose name he afterward was taught to know 
Was "Life," while his was onlv "Eaktii man " 

Still. 
Her crown of glory in the fall was this : 
God knew her nature far too well to charge 
The germ of disobedience at her door ; 
While punishing her weakness, yet he gives. 
In promise of her Motherhood^ the right 
To claim she is allied to Godhood still ; [head ! " 
Because '•''her Seed shall hruise the SerpenVs 



OR EARTHLY PA.RADISE. 57 

Her agony througli ages far adown 

The stream of time shall bring the Promised One, 

Whose presence here shall make the Devil quake, 

And whose grand death shall bid the angels wake 

The sweetest sound that heav'n has ever heard 

Prom all Eternity — Redemption^ s word ! 

She sniffers that the world may be alive ; 

Christ suffered that our deathless souls may live; 

And is it not full honor from His hand, 

She bears an humble part in scheme so grand, 

For all her sufferings ? To deem her less 

Because of trials of her sex, were like 

To try to rob the Godhead of His crown 

Of glory won in our Salvation, when 

He suffered in Redemi)tion — He is God, 

Not only God, hut loving Saviour too ! 

And God the Father loves to share with Him 

The glory of His kingdom. Thus should man 

Esteem the helpmate of existence here : 

And O ! what beauteous harmony would come 

From such esteem throughout this mundane 

home ; 
' Twould almost spring again to former place, 
For Eden's joys themselves the world would grace. 
We need not fear such privilege to give ; 
Their Motherhood would be exalted ; and 



58 FAITH 



True women never yet have been "unsexed "; 
' Tis thing impossible, just as it is 
Impossible that men should bring forth young. 
Engaged in noble work, they must remain 
True women still, 'mid every scene of life. 
Was Florence Nightingale "unsexed" because 
On tented field she suif 'ring soldiers cheered 'i 
Go, ask those who recover'd, if they e'er 
Saw trait the least unwomanly in her ; 
Or if the dying spurn' d the gen'rous hand 
That soothed their anguish in a foreign land ? 
Go, ask the missionary if he scorns 
The aid of woman in his trying field — 
And earth hath none severer — he'll rei^ly 
She is a helpmate lent him from the sky, 
A being whom the angels can but love. 
Whose sacrifices grandest valor j)rove. 
Beside whose courage martial honor shrinks, 
As vapor when the sun its substance drinks. 
Esteem her as an equal ; let her hand 
Take joyous part in all that's nobly planned. 
She'll share all sorrows, brave all dangers, too, 
To aid the one who to her thus is true. 
She'll not content herself with worldly show : 
Into our Maker's "vineyard" she will go, 
A glad companion with her chosen one, 



OR 'EARTHLY PARADISE. 59 

And willing labor till his work is done. 

She'll cross the waves when duty bids him go, 

She'll teach God's truth 'mid desert and 'mid 

snow ; 

She'll help to cheer each bleeding, broken heart, 

To weary ones new strength and joy impart. 

Not waiting, halting, turning from the way. 

Until to earth she yields her debt of clay; — 

Then to the Harvest-Reaper she'll ascend 

With Heav'n's own throng her glorious sheaves 

to blend. 

[Exeunt all. 

Scene III. — Faith at Home. — {Theodore's Love for 

Her.) 
Theodore : 

I did not deem such talent could be found, 

Miss Faith ! in all adjacent country 'round, 

xls graduating class displayed the day 

Of your Commencement. The Professors, sure, 

Must be a band of very gifteTl men. 

To show such fruits of earnest industry 

In guiding minds. I, too, was quite surprised 

At eulogy our Missions called from you : 

Young ladies do not usually regard 

This matter in the light you seem to see ; 

And yet 'tis strange when women are so quick 



60 FAITH 



To be enlisted in a worthy cause 

So few e'er think of Missions. Some, I've heard, 

Even assert they think it "dreadful hard" 

That trav'ling preachers, in our own bright land, 

Should be so fortunate as e'er to lind 

A helpmate in tlieir arduous held of life ; 

And doom them all, on only this account. 

To lone celibacy. 1 hope that you 

Are more compassionate in all your views 

Of our profession ? 

Faith : 

Yes, I've been surprised. 

Myself, quite frequently, to hear remarks 

Like that from school-mates ; and I feared, 

perhaps, 
That some might thus attempt to sneer at me, 
Because of what I said : perchance the words 
The President then uttered silenced them. 
I do not think that ladies, as a rule. 
Think lightly of the Mission-cause ; but girls 
Make such remarks because they've never 

thought 
The subject over much. I think myself 
There never was a nobler band of men 
Than our Itin'rancy ; and surely none 
That ever has, or could, do more to aid 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 61 

In spreading Gospel-truth. It seems to me 
They carry out more fully His command : 
''''Go ye to all the world and preach My Word^^'' 
Than 'twould be possible, were they to work 
By any other system ; and can't see [more 

Why they should be debarred from marriage 
Than other men : It rather seems that love 
Of God and men, such as their lives evince, 
Would tend to waken admiration for, 
Instead of scoffing at them. 

Theodore: I am glad 

To hear you thus corroborate the views [think 
Expressed that day. I feared that you might 
It well enough for men, with their great strength, 
To go forth in the world to work for God ; 
But might not, as your President, approve 
Of woman's leaving home and friends to go 
With them in all their wanderings. He is 
As noble man as I have ever known. 
And such a friend to me I scarce can tell : 
He has been urging me for several years 
To go to China — and I want to go — 
But scarcely knew what was my duty, till 
I heard your essay and the foil' wing speech. 
He's told me, since, he wanted me to know 



62 FAITH 



He meant each word for me, and others, too, 
And hoped the last lone doubt was now removed. 
Faith : 

He is a very noble man ; one who 
Has thought profoundly, and whose ev'ry thought 
Seems e'er in unison with God's great laws ; 
But very quiet. I had never dreamed 
Until that day he so approved my views, 
Although, of course, he knew them weeks before, 
I'd think you could but give much weight to what 
He would suggest : the subject's far too deep, 
And full of consequences grand, for one 
So young as I to dare advise upon. 

Theodore, talcing a seat heside her : 

But you are deeply interested, Faith ; 
More deeply than you thought that sunny day 
When with sweet words you threw such halo 

'round 
The Mission-cause : and I'd prefer to hear 
What you may say about it now to all 
That Doctor Ev'rard could for years to come. 
I j)rize his friendship ; but 'tis sometliing more 
That brings me gladly to your side to-day. 
I've known you long ; much longer than you 

thought 
When meeting me upon the crowded street. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 63 

You'd think, perhai)s, if thinking aught at all, 
As bowing pleasantly you glided on, 
About the quiet gentleman you'd met : 
" There goes a Minister with white cravat. 
And lengthen' d face who never had a thought 
Of college-girl like me." And yet, just then 
Within my heart I'd feel a quicken' d throb. 
And on my cheek a lightly-burning flush 
Would tingle as I saw you turn the street. 
You have good friends in all your teachers : I 
Have never heard but praise from them of you ; 
And when I listen' d to that essfty read, 
And heard the speech that follow' d, I resolved 
To win your love if such were possible : 
If not, to go forth on my sadden' d way, 
And struggle still in duty's arduous path. 
Perhaps you'll think it selfish, cowardly. 
For one to shrink from going forth alone. 
But 'tis not this : I would not woo a love 
To shield myself from danger or distress : 
I've ever held the views he well express' d 
On that bright day I knew my heart was youi s ; 
And would not have a love of mine e'er feel 
She was less dear than part of my own soul. 
I hold that men who reckon woman's worth 
Inferior to their own to-be but ill 



64 FAITH, 

Prepared for true companionsliip with tliem : 

They've surely been unfortunate in life 

In not possessing female relatives 

Of noblest worth ; and measure all by tliem. 

And yet it seems a man could scarcely come 

To years mature without discerning that 

The worth of woman must be as Jiis own ; 

And that in placing her on lowly i3lane 

He lowers self. ' Tis for companionship 

Of lofty, noble nature that I woo. 

A love like this combines in kindred souls 

That friendship ahcients said was seldom found 

But once in life, if even that one time, 

With fondness such as poets heart dotli sing. 

I've never loved before ; for ever since 

I was a youth I've realized that life 

Was but a state of trial for the soul 

To fit it for the future ; and believed 

That marriage is the most important step 

Of all, save that which links the life to God, 

Between the two extremes of birth and death : 

And I have careful been to keep my heart 

From out temptation of the sunny world 

Of love, as men do sometimes reck of love. 

I knew whene'er I loved ' twuuld be for life, 

And feared I might some life-long error inake 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 65 

In choosing one to whom to give my heart ; 

And then I knew ' twould break : for such a love 

As mine unworthily bestow' d is like 

The pearl that Cleopatra placed in drink 

Of vinegar ; 'twould be dissolved, no more 

To take its place ' mongst fairest pearls again, 

And leave me naught save brimming acid cuj) ; 

Unless my God should work a miracle 

In my behalf, and bid me love again. 

But now I know I'm not mistaken Faith ! 

And pledge you what I ne'er shall pledge again 

To any other woman's ears : a love 

As pure as purest love can ever be ; 

As strong as deep gulf-current in the sea, 

That keeps its way despite the waves and storm 

Obedient to its heav'n-appointed law ; 

As fair as early spring in all its bloom 

When new existences leap from the tomb 

Of winter's rule. I know that other men 

Will woo ; some of them high exalted too, 

Within their country's annals ; for they sure 

Can find no place in this great government 

But would be honored by your woman's worth. 

Yet what were love of e'en a President, 

Unless his nature were exalted too ? 

' Twould only be a living death to you 



66 FAITH, 

To see the pageantries of honor ' round 
Without its subtle essence in your soul. 
You'd feel exalted in your husband's worth, 
You would be humbled were he not a man 
The peer of nature's noblest ; and your life 
Would pine beneath it like a beauteous tree 
That withers from some secret, deadly blight. 
The world regards mine as an humble sphere — 
But O ! can that be low that angels bless ? 
Can earth a higher path e'er show to man 
Than that which God Himself once deign'd to 

press ? 
With thee to share, O ! it would seem to me 
Almost as bright as heav'n itself to be — 
Canst thou not answer to my pleading heart, 
All radiant and lovely as thou art ? 
It waits an answer as the Howers a breath 
Of spring to wake them from their wintry death. 
Faith : 

I can but deem it honor grand to be 
The chosen one of such a heart as thine, 
I had not lived unblest if 'round my way 
No other love its wreaths should ever twine. 
The pride of worldly circumstance and place 
Finds no responsive echo in my breast ; 
I deem my mission higher than to yield 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 67 

to such poor trilling toys my woman's worth ; 

And were I free as many a maiden is 

I could but answer you as you desire : 

In all my life I ne'er expect to find 

A nobler soul, a more exalted mind ; 

Nor is it possible for man to try 

By loftier path to win yon lieav'n so high. 

Theodoi^e : 

And is your heart another's ? O ! forgive 
The love I had not told you knowing this ; 
And yet, if pledged to me, I'd weeping yield 
You to another love, if you preferred. 
Faith : 

I am not pledged to any one : I'm free 
Of other loves ; but I have long resolved 
Within my parents' home to ever be [vow ; 

While they shall live. They know not of this 
Nor shall they ever. Were it not for this 
I could but give thee back an answ'ring love ; 
For I can rightly estimate the soul 
That yields up other joys at duty's call, 
And goes forth toiling for that duty's sake. 
And were I not my parents' only child, 
Had I a sister, or a brother who 
Another daughter for them still might woo. 
That holy vow had ne'er been made ; and now 



68 FAITH, 

I might have found sweet joy in loving thee. 
Thou canst not censure ? ' Tis the same decree 
Tliat bids thee go, that bids me stay from thee : 
And this should be a link to bind our souls 
In lasting friendship ; for I would not lose 
The blest regard of one my heart would choose. 
But would retain him as my dearest friend, 
Who still through life may sweetest comfort lend. 
O ! thou canst scarcely know how woman's heart. 
All brave, and girded with such strength thou art. 
Must bleed beneath a trial like to this. 

{87ie weeps. ) 
Tlteodore, deeply moned : 

My darling ! ' Tis one little drop of bliss [free ; 
To know that thou couldst love me wert thou 
To know that thou couldst willing yield to me. 
But for stern duty, such as only we 
Can realize, the right to gladly fold 
Tliee to my loving heart, and fondly hold, 
The right to soothe thee with love's sweet caress 
Would like an angel's cheer my spirit bless ; 
To press those lips and know the heav'nly thrill 
Of these sweet words : I love^ Hove tliee still! 
' Twere bliss divine — but O ! they are not mine, 
And are as sacred as the vestal flame 
That burned on ancient altars ! I would bind 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 69 

Your forehead with one life-remember' d clasp, 
But I forbear to soothe this yearning heart 
With such expression of its deathless love. 
Manhood shall conquer self ! And you shall be 
As pure from touch of mine as folded bud 
That scarce has caught a breath of softest breeze 
That's wooing it ; yet dear as that same bud 
To breeze and sunshine e'er caressing it. 
Think not that I can ever wish to cease 
To love when loving still brings sweetest peace : 
' Tis bliss divine to find a precious love 
So worthy of my homage ; and to know 
Where'er I am, how long so e'er I live, 
There can be none more worthy e' er to give 
One thought from love's deep fullness ; it shall 

flow 
Towards thee for aye as lone years come and go. 
Yes, darling ! friendship such as ours shall live 
In some few souls as long as time shall last ; 
And such a love as mine is, yours had been, 
Can rob this dreary world of half its woes. 
You can not know how dear you are to me 
Till we shall meet in vast Eternity : 
Earth has no language love like mine to tell. 
Nor mathematics numbers to compute 
The sum of all my fondness. There's no sound 



70 FAITH, 

Throughout this universe whose melody 

Could wake such music in my inmost soul 

As this sweet love now giveth me ; altliougli 

' Twere sweeter far if thou couldst only go. 

In heav'n, perhaps, the angels realize 

Such bliss as this for aye — but never yet 

In all my life before I rightly prized 

The precionsness of a true woman's love ! 

No wonder Doctor Evarard could tell 

In glowing language what he knew so well ; 

For he is sweetly mated to the love 

That true to him from childhood e'er did prove. 

I ask no brighter crown that earth can give. 

Than that I worthy of this love shall live ; 

' Twere sweeter far to die in distant land. 

With no fond kindred near my grave to stand. 

And know in death I still was dear to thee 

Than any lot without that love could be. 

' Twill cheer me ' mid my every hour of toil ; 

And when I lay me down at night to rest 

Blest mem'ries of this hour shall throng my 

breast 
Until my faithful heart shall quickly beat 
As though I still were in thy presence sweet. 
My arms shall wander in my lonely dreams 
Enfolding thee within them as it seems, 



OR EARTHLY PARAUIHE. 71 

i\.nd I shall wake at sound of my low tone 

Caressing thee not knowing thou art gone : 

And when I wake to ask my God to bless 

Me in my labors and my loneliness, 

I'll beg, ! fondly beg that He will cheer 

My precious one in all her duties here. 

Ofie boon I ask : ' tis that thou, too, wilt pray 

My Maker's blessings on my path alway ; 

Where "two or three" petition thus of Heav'n, 

The promise is a blessing shall be giv'n. 

Faith : 

I will ! When morning breaks forth in the East, 
And all the earth grows radiant in its light, 
Ere business comes to break the spirit's rest, 
And nature seems so lovely and so bright ; 
My prayers shall cross the deep, deej), swelling 

sea 
In sweet petition then to comfort thee. 
When night shall cling around me, and the stars 
Are softly twinkling from their homes above, 
I'll gaze on them — then fall uj^on my knees 
To beg His blessings on my faithful love : 
And when I hear of high and holy deed 
In other ones my heart again shall bleed, 
Then find its solace in another prayer 
That speeds across the waves and nestles there. 



72 FAITH, 

Theodore^ liandlng her a riwj with Duty inscribed 
therein : 

Wilt wear this ring, my darling ? It was giv'n 
By one whose spirit long hath dwelt in heav'n ; 
My mother's gift to me when but a boy. 
To turn my thoughts to high and holy aini : 
Since it has shed blest rad'ance on my way, 
Perliax>s for thee ' twill do the same. It bears 
Within the emblem of our lives ; which yet 
Some ray of glory on those lives may set, 
Remember "Duty" still some joys can twine 
About our paths : and that I'm ever thine. 
'Tis sad as death to leave thee ; yet it hath 
Sweet promise of a resurrection -morn — 
I do not ask thee pledge thou' It wait for me 
Thrcnigh weary years, though I can love but thee ; 
I would not be so selfish thus to bind 
The soul so true, the heart so nobly kind ; 
And should another woo whom thou canst love, 
My blessing's thine with blessings from above. 
But when I'm gone, upon that ring oft gaze 
To bring thee back the mem' ry of these days ; 
And should I die afar — O ! let it be 
Bright token of my life-long love for thee. 
It soothes my anguish, knowing thou wilt wear 
This pledge of our devotion, fond and fair. 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 73 

Which dearer is to me because I lind 

A nobler soul, a more exalted mind 

Than I had deemed a mortal e'er possessed : 

Secure in this my lonely life is blest. 

O darling ! thou canst surely ne'er forget 

The glory on my i)ath thy love hath set ? 

Thou canst not live and learn to love him less 

Who ev'ry moment shall thine image bless, 

As dwelling with me far beyond the sea 

That image shall my constant solace be ? 

My manhood's garnered love I give to thee, 

Nor would from love's sweet bondage e'er be 

free ; 
Remember, I'll ne'er breathe to other ears 
The love baptized with thine own i)recious tears ; 
Remem})er, my whole heart to thee is giv'n, 
While " Duty" bids me seek to enter heav'n — 
O ! ' tis so hard to go, and leave thee here ; 
And yet, I know 'tis right — ye angels cheer 
My breaking heart while leaving her so dear ! 
Its agony no human aid can stay — 
O ! love me darling ! while I'm gone alway. 

- [^Exit Theodore. 
Faith alone, weeping: 

Had any one e'er told me such a love 
As his could find a dwelling-place in heart 



74 FAITH, 

Of mortal man, I had not deemed it true ! 

I thought my father' s was the noblest soul 

That ever dwelt in manhood's noblest form ; 

But he's exceeded in this hero's worth : 

And could I e'er forget that heroism 

Enough to wed another, I would be 

But worthy of contempt of my own soul. 

Though billows bore him from me far away. 

So far that he had night while we have day; 

Though cross those stormy waves no news slioidd 

come 
To tell of his return again to home ; 
Though I should live neglected, and should die 
Alone on earth ; my soul would gladly ily 
To heav'n above, and bless him from the sky. 

{Leaiider and Mary enter. ^ 
Mary: 

Art weeping, daughter ? What could Theodore 
Have said to bring such sadness to thy heart. % 
Faith : 

I have been thinking. Mother, how sometimes 
A noble Christian man may rise above 
The dross of human nature till he seems 
Almost a being from some other sphere. 

{Showing her the ring.) 
He leaves for China ; and he gave me this 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 75 

To wear in token of his high resolve 
To labor in that distant " vineyard " till 
The voice of "Duty" calls him thence away ; 
And of regard for me, your only child. 
Leander : 

Regard from such a man is worth the flame 
Of thousand Reginalds placed side by side ; 
And one might j)rize more than a royal crown 
To see his daughter such a liero's bride. 
Mary : 

Yea ! love like his is like the mountain-snow 
That ne'er hath known the taint of earthly tread, 
It grows resplendent 'neath love's sunny glow. 
Yet high above earth's clouds still rear its head : 
Or like the love that loving Saviour bore 
Towards Mary of sweet Bethany of old, 
Such love as bloomed in Paradise of yore, 
And in earth's noblest souls can ne'er grow cold. 

[Exeunt all. 
Anr/ds sing : 

Were all earth to gather treasures 

For long ages yet to come. 
Were it then to build those treasures 

In one proud and lofty dome ; 
All the splendors of that dwelling. 
As it rose in grandeur there, 



76 FAITH, 

Could not bring one -half the glory 
As the love true lovers share. 

Not through weaknesses of mortals, 

Not for stores of mental worth, 
Do they love whom they have chosen 

From the noblest of the earth ; 
But for lofty spirit-stature 

In the one each spirit loves ; 
And that love can bless their pathways, 

Wheresoever either roves. 

Shine O ! sunbeams brightly 'round him, 

O ! ye winds most softly blow, 
Where a holy duty calls him, 

And where he so soon must go ! 
Father send Thy precious Spirit, 

"Comforter " to each young heart. 
Till they both shall reach yon heav'n, 

Never there again to part. 

Scene IV. — Theodore Visits the Prisoner' 
Theodore : 

I'm here now Humphrey for a last adieu ; 
The vessel sails to-morrow, and I'd give 
You some sweet comfort ere I go, to come. 
Perhaps, no more. Remember all I've said 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 77 

About tlie willingness of God to save 
Poor sinners to the uttermost ; and how 
The Saviour loves to come within a heart 
That erst had known but wickedness, and take 
Up His abode in it to stay for aye, 
If thou could' st only grasp this precious truth, 
And feel 'twas thine, this all could only be 
At worst a gate-way to yon heav' n above : 
And should you happily be cleared to go 
Forth in the world again, 'twere worth the price 
Of longest prison-life to find this boon ; 
And you might still a mighty blessing prove 
To tliis sad world in winning men from ways 
Of crime and woe. And don't forget to read 
Your Bible oft, and oft to pray to God 
To soften your poor heart until it can 
Receive His precious truth in all its worth : 
I'd love when time is past, and lieav'n is won, 
To count you 'mongst my "jewels" 'round the 

throne. 
Humphrey : 

O sir ! I thank you from my inmost soul 
For all your kindness ! and that you could think 
Of lonely prisoner in an hour like this. 
I'll strive to do as you direct : I'll strive 
To root this demon, hate, from out my heart 



78 FAITH 



Towards him who wronged me deeply ; whom I 

Sometimes I read, and think if only then [killed. 

I could forgive him that I could believe 

The Saviour, too, would freely pardon me. 

' Tis death to know a sister' s hopes were wreck' d ; 

And that my life is blasted by him — hell 

In my own heart — Oh, that I could forgive ! — 

And that this hell were banished from my soul. 

Theodore : 

You must forgive ! There is no other way 
That God himself can lead you unto heav'n. 
Just think of Jesus' life ; His Godhood's worth ; 
And then remember how this wicked world 
Through envy of that worth deliver'd Him 
To death upon the ignominious cross ; 
And sure you must believe — you can forgive ! 
I think if you could only realize 
This precious hist'ry of His life is true, 
As you believe that other books are true, 
Your spirit could but melt beneath that Truth, 
And grasp the fullness of a Saviour's love 
As reaching you : read often and reflect ; 
And pray for grace to realize this truth. 
Humphrey : 

I will ! I will ! Your visits, with sweet work 
That r ve been doing in this prison-cell, 



OR EAETIILY PARADISE. 79 

Have been my only solace. Frequently 
I've almost felt that I could take my life, 
Could dare e'en God, all heav'n, and all hell : 
But mem'ries then of your soft, pleading tone, 
And weeping eyes when preaching to us here 
Would come within my heart, and I'd relent. 
Your portrait is completed ; 'tis as true 
As artist's eye could wish : 'tis all I'll have 
To cheer my wretchedness when thou art gone, 
Yet I most freely give it unto thee. 
As some return for all thy kindness shown ; 
No doubt some friend or relative will wish 
To keep it in remembrance of thy face. 
Thy much-lov'd face till thou shalt come again. 
Theodore : 

No, Humphrey ! keep it : there is one I'd love 
To have it; but I can't consent to take 
The only sunbeam from your cell, since you 
Have just revealed you prize it all so well. 
You know the lovely girl I told you of. 
Whose noble words so nerved my heart for this \ 
I've seen her since ; and gladly found her all 
I thought she was — a woman true as steel 
To what she deems her duty. When I'm gone, 
Shouldst hear that I am dead ; or should you find 
You'll die, or happily be freed again ; 



80 • FAITH, 

Be sure to send the portrait to her home, 
With word it was my parting gift to her — 
And now farewell ! And may we meet again 
Where there's no prison, no distress, nor pain. 

Humrplire , weeping: 

Farewell ! farewell ! My heart is breaking now ; 
But take, O ! take my spirit's grateful vow : 
Should I be lost, should I be doomed to hell — 
O ! noble man ! thou 'st done thy duty well. 

Scene V. — Theodore Leaves America. — ((9« deck o/ 
steavier off the coast, at night. ^ 

Theodore alone., repeating Scripture passages : 
Let your heart not troubled be : 
Ye believe in God, then see 
That ye too believe in me. 

In my Father's house there are 
Many mansions : and I go 
To prepare a place for you. 

And if I prepare a place 
I will come again to you, 
And receive you to myself ; 
That where I'm ye may be too. 

Til not leave you comfortless : 
I will come again to you. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 81 

As the Fatlier hath loved me, 
Even so have I loved you : 
Still continue in my love. 

Oreater love hath none than this, 
TJiat a man can willing lay 
Down his life for life of friends. 

Ye are my friends, if ye do 
Whatsoever I command. 

Ye are friends ; because all things 
Of my Fatlier I have heard 
I have made known unto you. 

Whatsoever ye shall ask 
Heav'nly Father in my name, 
He will surely give it you. 

Pray I not for these alone. 
But for all who shall believe 
On me also through their word ; 

That they all may be as one ; 
As thou Father, art in me. 
And as I also in Thee, 
They may be as one in us : 
So the world can hut believe 
That Thou surely hast sent me. 



82 FAITH 



{He kneels and prays.) 
Our Father who in heaven art, 
O ! hallow' d be Thy name ; 
Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done 
On earth as ' tis in heav'n ; 
Give us this day our daily bread ; 
And O ! forgive our debts, 
As debtors we forgive ; into 
Temptation lead us not, 
From evil O ! deliver us ; 
For Thine's the kingdom, Lord, 
And Thine the pow'r, and glory too, 
Forever, Lord. Amen. 



{He rises, looks out earnestly upon 
the ocean, and sings.) 

The waves are bearing me away 

From all of earthly home. 
And o'er my aching heart-strings now 

The sweetest mem'ries come ; 
While far across the ocean's swell 

I glimpse a distant light, 
It shines from shore I love so well — 

Mj^ Native Land, Good-night ! 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 83 

Yet I could gladly leave that land 

For "Duty's" stern decree, 
Did but tlie waves too bear thee on, 

My peerless one, with me ; 
For high resolve my toils can cheer, 

And strength of manhood's might ; 
But 'twould be sweet to have thee here — 

My precious one, Good-night ! 

I will not say farewell to thee, 

' Tis far too sad a sound 
To breathe for darling one to whom 

My heart's so sweetly bound : 
But as the vessel glides away 

To foreign landscape bright. 
My si)irit wafts its parting- lay — 

My precious one, Good-night ! 

I would not feel that thou art lost 

Forever from my grasp. 
That I shall never fold thy form 

In proudly loving clasp ; 
As mother to her babe that's gone 

In slumbers from her sight. 
Who'll greet her at the earliest dawn — 

My precious one, Good-night ! 



84 



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86 FAITH, 

I go unto the tropic shore 

Of " Flow'ry Kingdom " far, 
While "Duty" cheers the darksome way, 

My only guiding-star : 
Yet, O ! couldst thou, with all thy worth, 

But add thy sjiirit's light, 
How bright were still the scenes of earth — 

My precious one, Goodnight ! 

O! 'twill be sweet in distant land 

To tell of Jesus' love, 
While listening heathen hungering stand 

For manna from above : 
But while that Saviour's love can iill 

My soul with blessings bright, 
My heart can be but human still — 

My precious one, Good- night ! 

The morning' s sun shall gild the waves. 

But, O ! when I awake, 
No gleam of home with all its joys, 

Shall on my vision break : 
Not so, my darling's image dear. 

Shall fade when morn is bright, 
I'll clasp it still forever here — 

My ijrecious one, Good-night ! 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 87 

Should I no more thy presence greet, 

Should Heav'n this boon deny, 
Should I a lonely resting-place 

Find 'neath a foreign sky — 
O ! 'twill be sweet to know in death 

We'll meet in fields of light, 
And bless thee with my latest breath — 

My precious one. Good-night ! 

Scene VI. — Reviewing the Bishop' s Sermon. 

Leander : 

How did you like the sermon that we heard 
On yesterday? I thought the text sublime, 
The whole discourse in keeping with the text : 
" He.s able, to the uttermost, to save 
All those loho come to Ood by Him, for He 
Forever lives on high to intercede 
For themr Is it not beautiful to trace 
The love that Paul had for his countrymen. 
The Jews % How earnestly he pleads with them 
For Christ ! How carefully he guards against 
Their mighty i)rejudices as he X)leads ! [that 

With what deep love he strives to teach them 
Our Saviour's priesthood far exceedeth theirs ! 
And when he ' s clearly proven all of this. 
So they can not despise his reas'ning grand, 



88 FAITH, 

With one great ^^ wherefore^'' coming from it all, 

He begs them take Him as their Saviour, too, 

Because He is so able to Redeem ! 

I can't conceive how they can still refuse ; 

Unless they never read Paul's grand appeal ; 

For it doth seem they could but see his zeal, 

As "ready to resign his life for them, 

If they'd believe "^ — and that they would believe. 

Mary : 

I thought when Bishop Elmer read that hymn, 
"O ! ' tis delight without alloy," and looked 
So earnest, almost weeping, that we'd hear 
A sermon for reflection all our lives. 
What gentle dignity and strength sublime 
In all his mien ; as athlete when he knows 
He's well prepared to carry of' the prize 
For which he is contending, and begins 
His task with surest confidence ; yet still 
With sweet humility of Christian knight ! 
And did you notice what he said of when 
He was still undecided in his mind 
To preach the Gospel : how his soul was flred, 
Like other youths, with high ambition's flame, 
While he knew well from his own father's life 
The trials of the ministry 1 I felt 
A thrill of anguish in my heart, and tears 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 89 

Came sympathizing with his fait' ring tone. 

O ! when a man has passed through such ordeal 

In conquering self, and still clings to the Cross, 

He ever is a hero in the strife ! 

For he is ' ' ready to be crucitied, ' ' 

If it needs be, to tell his Saviour's worth ; 

And when he preaches with this spirit, hearts 

Must bow before the majesty of Truth, 

And souls be saved as trophies of his faith. 

Faith : 

And after he had proven all his text, 
JIow touchingly he queried, "How can they 
Come unto Christ unless they hear Him 

preached ? 
How hear unless the Gospel first be sent?" 
Then in a burst of thrilling eloquence. 
As if he wished it heard throughout the earth : 
" (ro, go ye forth to all the worlds and 'preach ! " 
And in my mind there rose a vision up 
Of gifted minister without a wish, 
Save that of God's great glory, going forth 
With Bible in his hand, and in his heart 
A flame of purest love to preach His Word : 
My soul was full ! I could but deeply think 
Upon the import of that message grand. 
Till tears were mine as well as his relief. 



90 FAITH, 

Leander: 

Yes ! yes ! And yet how very strange it is 
' Mid such appeals as this, and such grand proofs 
Of truth of all within the Bible found, 
Our youths will still eschew the glorious path 
Of life like this for merely earthly pomp. 
We see "professions" crowded ; see young men 
Of noble worth and lofty intellect 
All striving for the "Law," or "Medicine,'' 
Or path of high exalted mental worth. 
While this profession — grandest of them all — 
Is so neglected. Can they realize 
That Paul, with all his learning, was a child, 
A little child in sj)irit-stature till 
His eyes were opened by the Son of God, 
And he beheld life's mission as it is ? 
How lightly he esteemed his learning all. 
Compared to Christ ; how earnestly he strove 
To make amends for wrong-directed zeal 
Before he was converted ! Who can boast 
Of prouder intellectual worth than he ? 
Who now is trained at fam'd Gamaliel's feet? 
And yet, with every worldly circumstance 
Enticing him away, he lived for God. 
And then how grand his readiness for death ; 
His joy that he had "kept the faith," and had 



OE EARTHY PARADISE. 91 

A "crown of righteousness" laid up for him : 
And when he thought of wearing that bright 

crown, 
His spirit but exulting cried, " death ! 
Where is thy sting? gram! thy victcyryf'' 
The lawyer pleads for life of criminal 
With all his eloquence, till men but feel 
A wish in unison with his that he 
May save his client from the scaffold's grasp- 
But O my soul ! the mighty difference ! 
The preacher pleads with God that men may flee 
"The wrath to come," the '''' never-ending death,'' ^ 
And still men sneering stand if he should seem 
" Excited " by his mighty theme, which brings 
Eternal destiny in view of souls ; 
And scoff him for his very earnestness ! 
The doctor stands beside his dying friend, 
And weeps with relatives because he sees 
There is no hope to save his life : and yet 
When men of God rise up and tell him that 
He'll surely die unless he doth '■'■repent,'''' 
And that no other remedy exists 
In all the stores of Godhead's pharmacy 
That e'er can reach his dying state, he smiles, 
As though some child were talking of his toys. 
And scorns the tears that righteous man may shed 



92 FAITH, 

In striving thus to woo him from his sins ! 

O ! for one grain of reason in the soul 

Of erring, inconsistent, thoughtless man ! 

How quick the nat'ral darkness were dispelled 

In gleams of heav'nly glory shining there. 

Why, e'en the heathen, who at Lystra saw 

Oiie cripple healed by Paul, esteemed him as 

A deity, and brought their offerings 

In attestation of their gratitude : 

And yet will men see other beings healed 

Of wondrous sins ; will see their lives all cleansed 

Through teachings of the Gospel grace, and still 

Refuse to give it all their hearts' support. 

The Indian walks abroad at eventide. 

Beholds the glory of the setting sun. 

And hears the music of the wand'ring wind, 

And in his simple, untaught eloquence 

Will worship his " Great Spirit." Other men 

Will gaze upon this very beaut' ous earth 

From infancy to manhood, who have had 

All means to trace Creation from the plane 

Of nat'ral loveliness to higher sphere 

Which tells of its great Maker, God ; will read 

Perhaps in Holy Writ, and hear it preached. 

The working of that mighty Spirit which 

Fills earth with beauty, and our hearts with love 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 93 

For all those beauties ; yet refuse belief 

That they must worship God, or they must die. 

It scarcely seems it can be possible : 

And yet we know 'tis only but too true, 

To reach such men as these the Bishop preached ; 

No wonder that his heart was full, and that 

His eyes were brimming with that fullness too. 

Mary : 

And when he spoke in few, brief, feeling words 
Of woman's mission, and of Jesus' love. 
So tender towards her when He dwelt on earth, 
I could but bless him from my inmost soul : 
How never He was known to speak a word 
Unkind to her ; not e'en when one was brought 
Of deepest crime that's known to womanhood, 
Would He condemn her — telling those around : 
" Whichever one was guiltless cast a stone,'" 
Thus teaching them by this one stern rebuke, 
" Do unto others as ye would, that they 
Should do to you ; ' ' and how they went away ; 
And then He told her : " 6'6» and sin no more.'''' 
How diff' rent far from human usage this ! 
Had He been man, or many a woman then, 
He would have driv'n this sadly erring one 
From out His presence with a bitter sneer ; 



94 FAITH 



While those more guilty would have linger' d 

there : ' 
And then of liow the women went to weep 
Around him when He hung upon the cross ; 
Of how he tried to comfort them ; and how 
He cared for Mary in His dying hour, 
And left her with His fav'rite follower : 
How ' tis not said the Jewish women wished 
This noble friend of theirs e'er crucified, 
And Pilate's wife warned him of all the woe 
A dream had taught her that His death would 
How He appeared to other Mary when [bring : 
She went to weep beside her Master's grave, 
And how He told her, ' ' (7o, and tell the news 
Of Resurrection to His toaiting friends ; ' ' 
A wormian was the first to see His form 
When it was newly risen from the tomb ; 
A woman tells His own disciples He's 
Alive again — and they believe her jstot ! 
It does not seem He scorned the female sex ; 
He e'er remembered, though Himself Avere God, 
A woman was His mother^ and would show 
On this account His great respect for all, 
Nor scorn His kinship with them. Women 

should 
Be His glad foil' wers : for His coming brought 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 95 

Not only life Eternal nnto them ; 

But 'twas the first lone ray of hope that gleamed 

Upon their paths since Paradise was lost, 

They should be freed from earthly servitude. 

But for this precious Gospel we were now, 

As our poor sex in distant heathen lands, 

The slaves, the merest chattels of our lords. 

E'en chivalry, that brightly beaming ray 

That in past ages brought to her dark way 

Some faint approach of justice, was but branch, 

A wild offshoot, from this umbrageous tree 

That sweetly shelters us from noontide heat 

Of man's oppressive nature. Can it be 

A woman e'er can think that she is free 

Of obligations to the Christian creed ? 

Nay ! rather let her cling to it as men 

Would hold to only plank on surging sea 

To reach the distant port : and it will bring. 

In lapse of ages, all that we desire 

To make us happy as this life may be. 

But faithful to this beacon-light our paths 

Shall ever lead us in the ways of right ; 

And though the world may sneer we still shall 

have 
Full many a joy the world (^an never give. 



96 FAITH, 

Leander : 

And this reminds me of a task for yon : 
Some erring and repentant ones desire 
A band of women go and pray with them ; 
And I have told the Bishop's daughter you 
Would meet her at the corner as she goes. 
Take our dear child : life is too short at best 
To do our Maker' s service ; and ' tis well 
That she begin full early : Christ ne'er fell 
In sin because He dwelt 'mongst sinners here ; 
And our jDure child is none less pure when she 
Shall strive to lead earth's erring ones to heav'n, 
Mary : 

Poor wretched ones ! I pity in my heart 
The anguish sweeping through their lonely souls ; 
The victims of man's lust, of woman's pride. 
They live and die, and few e'er go to see 
How many might to virtue be restored ; 
Or stop to think how in their circumstance 
Themselves perhaps had fallen in the snare. 

{Exeunt Leander and Mary. 
Faith alone : 

Sure I am blest as never mortal was 
In father and in mother ; yet my heart 
Must sometimes weep for its dear absent love : 

{She plays and siiigs.) 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 



97 



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from this lov ing heart? 
all my heart well knew: 



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FAITH, 



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Hast found a home 
That it would ai - 

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wave; A home wherein my hand can take no 

when The one should leave, so ten- der and so 




part? 
true. 



2. How bright the glow with- in those 
4. There's not a flower but speak -eth 



radiant 
of thy 




OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 



99 




eyes When thou didst tell 
love, There's not a voice 



me of thy price-less 
but whispers e'er of 




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love! 
thee, 



How soft thy tone as an -gel's from tho 
Iheresnot a sound but doth in semblance 




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P'^'^^^ Some waft-ed so n - ne t from the far -off sea. 




100 FAITH, 

And art thou ^one, my noble and my brave ? 

Art gone forever from this loving heart ? 
Hast found a home beyond the stormy wave, 

A home wherein my hand can take no part ? 

How bright the glow within those radiant eyes 
When thou didst tell me of thy priceless love ! 

How soft thy tone as angel's from the skies 
When thou didst woo me from my home to rove ! 

And O ! how blest my spirit had been then 
Could I have told thee all my heart well knew ; 

That it would almost burst with anguish when 
The one should leave so tender and so true. 

There's not a flow'r but speaketh of thy love, 
There's not a voice but whispers e'er of thee, 

There's not a sound but doth in semblance prove 
Some wafted sonnet from the far-off sea. 

I do not hear its boist'rous billows play, 
I do not see those angry billows roll, 

But still that ocean-music comes alwaj^ 
In wailing moan to echo through my soul. 

O ! noble, gen'rous, dear, devoted heart ! 

Where'er on earth thy duteous footsteps rove, 
The gem of manhood's loftiest worth thou art, 

The hero of this faithful spirit's love. 



OiR EARTHLY PARADISE. lOl 

And it shall bless thee as the years go by 

At morn, at noon, at night with fondest prayer, 

Until it seeks its "mansion " in the sky. 
Nor e'er forget to love and ])less thee there. 

(In singing last ver^e, begin at S)- 

Scene VII. — Visithig the Erring Ones — Their Con- 

versioii . 
Mary : 

Good morning! We have come to bid you 

cheer 
In your resolves of late, and aid you with 
Our converse and our prayers. It is a sight 
That angels love when mortals once begin 
To think of all the consequence of sin. 
Resolving thence to lead another life : 
We know how blest it is in hours of grief 
To share the sympathy of friendly hearts, 
And we have come to offer ours to you. 
Rosalind : 

God bless you for your coming! We had 

thought [prayer 

That scarcely one would heed our heart felt 
Of all this mighty City : we had feared 
That hearing of kind wishes from our sex 
Through printing-ink and paper would be all 
Of woman's sympathy we'd e'er receive. 



102 FAITH, 

O ! did the thousand loving female hearts 

In this metropolis but know the half [tears 

That we could tell them, they would find hot 

Quick rising from them rather than cold sneers. 

They know not how the tempter lured us : they 

Believe that Eve and Adam disobeyed, 

E'en when surrounded by fair Eden's bloom, 

And God could deign forgiveness unto them ; 

But when we mortals now in sorrow's hours, 

And through the lack of human sympathy, 

Are lured by siren voice to utter ruin, 

A voice not sounding half so sweet had we 

But portion of the love that thousands have, 

They can't forgive — and doom us to despair. 

How often we had striven to reform, 

Had but one loving woman's voice essayed 

To cheer our wasted hearts and ruined lives ! 

{87ie weeps.) 
For we believe God's mercy's full enough 
To reach the case of sinners such as we ; 
But human beings, mostly our own sex, 
So scorn our every effort to be free 
Of former lives, we have no strength to rise 
To better things : while these same people stand 
As Christian models in this Christian land. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 103 

Celestine : 

We do not doubt it ; and believe if we 
Could hear from your own lips your history, 
We'd Aveej) far more than when on novel -page 
We read of fancied heroines of woe, 
And find but tears can our own grief assuage. 
Rosalind : 

I had a lover : he was rich and brave. 
And promised all that in this life I'd have 
To make it next to lieav'n — 'twas but a snare 
To lure me in his wiles ; and then to leave 
Me weeping in my wretchedness and woe. 
He said he once had loved another maid, 
That she'd rejected him, that I should reap 
The harvest of his own heart's garner' d grief: 
And yet he said he hox)ed to win her still, 
And bade me ne'er divulge his wicked life. 
Because he knew she'd spurn him from her sight. 
And that he could not live without her love ; 
That she was fairest, purest, best of earth. 
And he would die or win her woman's worth. 
But God has kindly shielded her from him — 
'Twas years ago he said it — and I learn 
That my own Reginald's unmarried still. 
Faith, toeeping : 

Yes, he' s un wedded : I had little deemed 



104 FAITH, 

A 711 an could be so foul and yet so fair. 

I thank you for this warning; for he'd seek 

To win my heart while yours is like to break ; 

And though 1 ne'er could love him, I despise 

Henceforth admiring glances of his eyes, 

And would escape as from a living death 

His tender words that come witli treacherous 

breath, 
Miriam : 

I, too, have loved ; and Gideon won my heart 
With much the same pretenses : we were wed. 
It was a secret wedding : for he said 
His relatives were all opposed to me, 
They knowing it, no pleasure he could see : 
Thus through sham wedding he has wrought my 

ruin. 
I begged him, for the sake of our sweet cliild. 
To list my mournful pleadings and remain, 
To help me bear for it life's dreadful curse. 
That shall perhaps some day drive it to worse 
Condition still — he only smiled and said, 
" I should have known that he would never wed 
One in my station ; I was sweet and fair ; 
But he'd a home ; I was not Avelcome there." 
Celtstine, deeply momd : 

Great God ! And can it be that this is he 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 105 

Who songlit my love ? Had not my father been 
So vigilant and careful ; or had I 
Not been a child obedient to his will, 
I might have now been liis affianced bride. 
I feel like' falling on my Ivnees to thank 
My God for all His goodness ; and to beg 
His loving kindness on- these deep-wronged ones. 

( Thay all kneel in 'prayer. ) 

Mary prays : [know' st 

Tlion, who dost dwell in secret, yet who 

All that transpires throughout the universe ; 

Thou, who dost search the heart with piercing 

eye, 
And seest its hidden springs of anguish ; Thou 
Who dwelt on earth that we may dwell in 

heav'n, 
And who thus gav'st to all the world a chance 
Of freest pardon ! look upon us now 
In tenderness and mercy. Help ! O help 
Us each to search the inmost heart of each, 
That each may offer its full praise to Thee. 
And now, O Lord ! wilt cast one loving smile 
Upon these wrong'd and erring ones to wake 
Their bleeding hearts to sense of Thy great Love ; 
Tlint they may learn to ever worship Thee ; 
That they may be enabled now to cast 



106 FAITH, 

Their grievous burdens on their Saviour's breast, 
Who for their ransom hung upon the tree, 
That they redeemed t'rom all their sins might be. 
O ! let them realize the precious truth. 
That Thou dost love them for that Savioiir s sake, 
And would not have them banished from Thy 

love. 
And let this truth now nerve them to resolve 
Henceforth whatever life may have in store 
For them of scorn or contumely here, 
Whate'er of woe without, or grief within, 
Wliate'er of cravings still towards death and sin. 
That through the aid of Thy blest Spirit, they 
Thy will alone through life will now obey — 
O ! send that x^recious Spirit now — this day — 
And let it here O Lord ! forever stay ; 
That when Thy righteous will on earth is done. 
They too may serve Thee 'round Tliy glorious 

throne. 

Tlity rise and sing : 

O Tliou ! who never didst disdain 

To hear a sinner's vow. 
Look down on all the bitter woe 
Of those who worshi^j now : 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 107 

Remember all Thy agony 

While hanging on the tree, 
As sinners passing near reviled, 

And looked with scorn on Thee. 

And let some tender stream of love 

Prom Thy dear, bleeding side 
Pour in these souls a cordial sweet 

For griefs that now betide. 
Thou, who didst bless the dying thief, 

Ere death had closed his eyes. 
Let each of these now firm resolve 

To meet Thee in the skies. 

Thou, who didst send the "Comforter" 

To Peter's bleeding heart, •. 
Wlien thrice he had denied Thy name, 

And bade its grief depart ; 
! send Thy self- same Spirit now 

Into this sad abode. 
To strengthen all their hopes of heav'n. 

And lead them on to God. 

Forbid that sin should e'er again 

Invade each aching breast ; 
But may they henceforth follow Thee 

Till they shall find Thy rest ; 



108 FAITH, 

And there amid the blood-washed throng, 

The " crystal stream " beside, 
They'll praise Thee in an endless song. 
Their Saviour and their Guide. 

{^Exeunt Mary, Celestine, and Faith. 
Angels sing: 

Glory ! glory ! to the Father ! 

Glory ! to the dying Son ! 
Since such good His precious coming 

For the lost of earth hath done ! 
Yea, ten thousand times ten thousand ! 

Glory ! to the Saviour, God ; 
For they've tasted of the anguish 
Of the path Himself hath trod. 

Glory |o the Holy Spirit, 

Coming from the heav'nly throne ! 
It has taught them all the blessing 

Of believing it their own ; 
It has told them in its language 

That they each have been forgiven ; 
It has promised them a dwelling 

In the glorious courts of heaven ! 

Scene VIII. — Marfs Happy Death. 
Mary: 

Ope wide the curtains, daughter ! Let me see 

The glory of the springtime spread around : 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 109 

It ever was such sweet delight to me 
To trace His presence througlioiit nature's scenes, 
And find my heart responding to the glow 
Of love eternal brightly beaming there. 
The Winter's wind and snow remind me too 
Of Him who rules o'er all: but when the spring 
Comes forth each nature's resurrection-morn, 
My heart is filled to overflowing with 
His love and goodness towards the sons of men ; 
And 'tis not hard to die when all 's so fair, 
And Heav'n itself 's so bright reflected there. 
Leandei\ loeeping : - [here 

My darling ! WouM that we could hold thee 
A little brief while longer ! When I think 
Of all our happy days together spent, 
It seems to me my heart will surely break 
When thou art gone. How beaut'ous was the 

morn 
We pledged our life-long love ! how calm the eve 
We stood together ; and the man of God 
Said we were one ! And O ! how proud my heart. 
When claiming thee as its own life-long prize. 
And then when Faith, our darling baby-child. 
Came nestling with us, such a newborn joy 
Thrilled through my soul I felt I never could 
Enough be thankful to Him you were mine. 



110 FAITH 



Our child will still be left me — but how lone 

Will be my widow'd heart when thou art gone ! 

A part of my own soul thou'st been to me ; 

So fond, so loyal your deep sympathy 

In every worthy word, and thought, and deed : 

And when I erred so gently wouldst thou lead 

Me back to right — O ! I shall miss the pow'r, 

My talisman in many a trying hour, 

Thy spirit gave for good : I know we'll meet, 

Beyond this world, where life is all so sweet 

And so enduring ; but, my precious love ! 

My spirit craves its own dear chosen mate 

To cheer existence here, however late 

Mary, loeeping : 

My darling husband ! you have given all 
The wealth of your blest manhood's worth to me, 
Except the love that God claimed as His own. 
Your noble heart was my own spirit's throne, 
In which your Mary ever reigned supreme : 
And if you knew the solace that the thought 
Of all your love thus given brings me now, 
Your heart were surely cheered beneath this blow. 
' Twas e'er your one desire to cherish me 
As womanhood and mothei'hood should be ; 
And in my dying hour I thank you for 
The constancy of your true manhood's love. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. Ill 

No otlier earthly boon could so have cheered 
My woman's heart through all the scenes of life, 
As this hath done. My soul's sincerest prayer 
Is that thy life henceforth may be as blest 
As mine hath been with thee ! And that when 

thou 
Shalt find the death-dew gathering on thy brow, 
There may be one to cheer as thou dost now. 
My darling daughter ! our dear, only child ! 
How sad this hour did I not know thy heart 
Were stayed on God's own strength, and that thy 

life 
Were cheered by such devoted father's care : 
O ! love him ! trust him ! next unto thy God. 
And shouldst thou ever link thy fate to his, 
The noblest of his race, except my own 
Leander dear, O ! don' t forget to cheer 
With fond affection still thy father here : 
Still let his precious daughter's spirit bless 
His own true heart in its deep loneliness ; 
Methinks ' twill cheer me e'en in yon briglit 

heav'n. 
To know such faithful love to him is giv'n. 
F'aith, weejnng : 

Yea, dearest mother ! I shall ever be 
As true to him as he hath been to thee : 



112 FAITH 



For it has gladdened all my life to see 
His tenderness and constancy to thee. 
I could not doubt of manhood's noblest worth, 
When he so proved it in his '• daily walk, 
And conversation " with us here alone : 
Without this proof I ne'er had surely known. 
Till late in life, there was snch manhood's worth. 
And love for him, for thee too, though away, 
Shall cheer with some sweet light my darksome 

path ; 
While we shall never, never cease to pray 
To meet thee in the realms of endless day, 
Where thus devoted we shall live alway. 

Mary^ more cahnly : 

Yes, darling ! we shall meet again ! Before 
I ever saw thy baby-face I felt 
Thou wouldst a blessing be through all of time, 
A blessing too through all Eternity. 
And as the years went circling by I knew 
An angel had been lent me from the sky ; 
And thanked my God for my dear motherhood, 
This one blest crown of glory to our sex, 
A crown to shine but brighter as the years 
Of earth speed on, and which shall tell its worth 
In countless souls redeemed around the Throne, 
To shout His praises there forevermore. " 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 113 

Yea ! something tells me through my mother- 
hood 
And thine, a blessing shall be giv'n the world 
The worth of which yon heav'n alone can tell ; 
And this thought cheered me now as once it 

cheered 
The heart of Sarah as she jiassed away — 
My darling husband ! child ! come nearer ! I 
Would clasp you once again before I die ; 
Would place on lips of each my dying kiss 
Before I leave vou for the realms of bliss. 

{She kisses them', then closes her eyes 
and says ;) 

The Lord my Shepherd is ; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in pastures green : 

And leadeth me beside the waters still. 

! praise the Lord ! Restoreth He my soul : 
He leadeth me in paths of righteousness, 

For His name's sake He leadeth me. Yea, 
though 

1 walk through lonely vale of darksome shades 
Of death itself I will no evil fear : 

For Thou art with me still ; Thy gracious rod 
And Thy strong staff they sweetly comfort me. 
His goodness and his mercy's surely mine 
Through all life's days: and I will gladly dwell 



114 FAITH, 

Forever in the presence of my Lord. 

{She opens her eyes^ saying :) 
I see them now ! The flashing of their wings 
Snch bliss divine, and heav'nly transport brings — 
I liear the grandest song that e'er can be ! 
The wondrous tones of its sweet melody 
An echo is of heav'n's own symphony — [now ; 
They've come for me! They gather 'round me 
I feel their breath upon my clammy brow : 
They raise me uj) — to lieav'n they si:)eed my way — 
Farewell ! farewell ! poor tenement of clay ! 
Leander, weeping: 

Didst ever see such beauty on her face 
Before, my child 1 She surely just has seen 
An angel band ; for their late presence here 
Reflected is upon her features dear. 
Faith, weeping: 

I never did ; I thought her very fair 
In life ; but more than earthly beauty's there. 

( They clasp each other, and kneel 
beside her bed.) 
Angels sing : 

O ! the glory ! O ! the glory ! 
Of this one triumphant hour 
For the liberated sjnrit, 
In unfetter'd spirit-power ! 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 115 

Here it beat against its prison, 

Waiting fondly all the while 
For the blessing of its freedom, 

For its Father's gracious smile 

Tliat should woo it all so quickly 

Far away from scenes of earth 
That should tell it all so sweetly 

What its own enduring worth — 
They have passed the jiearly gateway, 

She has reached His kingdom now — 
Angels meet her— Christ doth greet her 

With a "new name" on her brow. 

Cease thy weeping ! cease thy weeping ! 

For she now is far more blest 
Than she could be here for ages, 

Pillow'd on thy faithful breast — 
Cease thy weeping ! cease thy WTei)ing ! 

O ! thou child of matchless worth. 
She's now wooing both your spirits 

Far beyond the realms of earth. 

We were with her when she enter'd. 
And we saw the Saviour' s smile 

As she gladly hasten' d to Him, 
Saints rejoicing all the while ; 



116 FAITH, 

Quick He clasped her to His bosom. 
Quick slie joined the ransom'd tlironu-, 

VVHiile tlie happy hosts of heaven 
Raised a new and wondrous son^i,- : 

Hallehiiali ! halleluiah ! 

Christ tlie monster, Death, hath shiin, 
And from each blest blood-bouglit spirif 

Washed away all earthly stain — 
Halleluiah ! halleluiah ! 

Father, Son, nnd Holy Ghost, 
(Tlad we praise the Triune Godhead 

Which redeemed us from the lost. 

Scene IX. — Fidelia Comforts Faith — Relates her 07vn 

history. 
Faith : 

Come, sit beside me, dear Fidelia ! for 

I feel the need of human comfort now : 

I've sung, and prayed, and wept, and now 1 long 

For loving tones of sympathizing heart 

To cheer my sadness — O ! it seems so lone. 

Whene'er my father leaves me for awhile, 

To dwell here when my precions mother's gone. 

The rooms are so deserted ! Everything 

Around is like it were my own sweet home ; 

But there's such stillness when my father's gone : 



OK EAKTIILY PARADISE. 117 

I miss her loving presence everywhere. 

I strive to cheer mv heart with music's strain, 

It only wakes my grief afresh again ; 

I wander 'mid the tlow'rs, they only telJ, 

" She's absent now who loved us once so well"; 

I turn to minstrel-page, but there're the lines 

She'd say, " where such unearthly beaut j'^ shines" ; 

And when I strive to read God's gracious Word, 

Her loving accents in each page are heard. 

' Tis only when my father talks with me 

That aught of cheerfulness my life doth see — 

(She weeps. ) 
() ! who hath mourned a faithful-mother dead, 
And hath not then life's bitter st tear-drops shed ! 
Fidelia, deeply moved : 

I know 'tis great, my darling friend ! your grief. 
One of the greatest earth can ever bring : 
Yet there are griefs, my dearest one ! that bear 
Upon the heart with heavier weight than this. 
You talk with others of your mother's love, 
Her life so beautiful, her faith so great, 
And death triumphant, and your heart can find 
Some slight relief for its deep, piercing woe 
In tears that come with sym]»athetic flow. 
But there are sorrows some in life do know 
Of which they durst not sjjeak one time in years ; 



118 FAITH 



Griefs much too sad for sympathetic tears 
From aught but souls of purest, loftiest worth ; 
And these, alas ! are far too few on earth. 
I ne' er have told you of my history : 
Your own sweet life did e'er so pleasant seem — 
I would not mar it by my own's sad dream 
Of unrequited love. Perhaps 'twould soothe 
You now, in hour of deep distress, to know 
That others too have borne their cross of woe ? 
Faith^ recoTiering her com/posure : 

Yes, dearest ! I would gladly listen now 
To saddest tale of grief that e'er was told ; 
' Twould take ni}' thoughts from self, and fix 

them on 
The anguish that some other heart hath known. 
Till I would half forget to weep my own. 
Fidelia : 

I was an orphan child : the same bright day 
That brought me life, took mother's too away ; 
And soon my father died. They say he grieved 
Himself to death for her sad, sudden loss, 
And in delirious wand' rings said that he 
Could nothing less than foulest murd'rer be. 
Physicians strove to woo him back to life ; 
But e'er when reason came, remembrance too 
Of her he'd loved and lost would rack his soul, 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 119 

Till they no longer could disease control. 
They buried him in self-same grave with her : 
And then a pair of strangers took the babe 
They botli had loved as their own life to raise. 
My early years were bright enough : they gave 
Me every earthly comfort wealth could crave, 
And books and teachers youthful hours beguiled 
Till they almost esteemed me as their child ; 
For tliey had none. And thus as years sped by 
I little recked the woe awaiting me ; 
But looked on life as some bright, sunny dream, 
With naught to mar its beauty save the thought 
Sometimes of how I should have loved to see 
Such parents as they said mine were, and hear 
Prom their sweet lips their love for me so dear. 
My guardian was a cold, proud, worldly man, 
Such as in life we only once may meet ; 
His wife a woman fair to see, yet weak 
Enough to think that woman's life consists 
In dressing tine, and playing some few tunes, 
And marrying then a man with jjocket full 
Of golden dust, no matter what his wealth 
Of mind, or heart, or soul may chance to be. 
These things I did not comi)rehend just tlien ; 
But as the years go by, so plain they show 
I often wonder they escaped me then. 



120 . FAITH, 

My school-days o'er, we traveled 'round until 
I was full weary of the world, and longed 
For quietude and home again : and there 
We "entertained," and "were so entertained," 
I often felt relieved to steal away. 
With book in hand, to quiet, lovely dell 

Near by the house, to think my own thoughts 

well. 
Thus sev'ral sunny years in gladness sped. 
All much alike ; and still I was not wed. 
A handsome stranger came : his name they said 
Was Eric ; and he "bravest of the brave," 
And wealth immense in his own right did have. 
My guard' an, Mr. Emmery, and wife. 
Were much delighted when young Eric showed 
So plainly pref'rences for me ; and more 
When he declared to them that he would be 
Most happy to succeed in winning me. 
They bade him hope ; but never let me know 
That they had promised too to aid him so. 
We walked, and rode, and talked, and visited. 
And all the while he so devoted seemed 
With delicate attentions, such as men 
Of polished mien and cultivated mind 
Can onlj^ give, and which so sweetly win 
A woman's heart, I could but give him mine. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 121 

! I remember well the beaut' ous day 

He told me that he loved me : with a burst 
Of thrilling eloquence he vowed his love, 
And how devoted e'er his life would prove 
To me but pledging love to him in turn. 
We were affianced : and when he arose 
To leave my side just at the sunset hour, 
And I beheld the dim moon rising too 
Above horizon's canopy of blue, 

1 thought God ne'er had made another day 

As bright as this. And when the night had come. 
And moon and stars were shining bright around, 
I went alone, without a light save that [sent, 

The Hooding moonbeams through the windows 
And sat me down beside my harp to sing 
A sweet, sweet song in token of my joy. 
All nature seemed rejoicing then with me ; 
And when I gently slumber' d ' twas to dream 
That he had told me of his love again. 
I was so happy I could scarcely spare 
A moment from bright day-dreams of my love 
To give to preparations : others made 
With friendly hearts and kindly hands these last, 
Without a word of ref'rence to the fact, 
Which now I know they must have plainly seen ; 
I was indiff'rent quite unto them all. 



122 FAITH 



My joy was perfect ; and I did not need 

The pageantries of style to make it more : 

But would liave gone, had he consented thus, 

Without the slightest pretense of parade, 

And pliglited vows within the quiet church 

I e'er had loved from childhood's sunny days. 

The nuptials came : I was too happy far 

To care for converse with my best loved friends ; 

Days, weeks, and months then swiftly glided on. 

And with my Eric I was happy still. 

But changes came at last : for he loved change 

In everything. I found alas ! he was 

A man so violent in angry moods, 

When slightest wish but chanced to cross his will, 

That his own kindred feared him ; and that he 

Had been from childhood thus allowed to rule 

The family from dread of rousing him. 

I also found what I believed his faith 

In Christian creed was shallow as could be. 

Instead of what he made pretense to me : 

' Twas but a feint to win my faithful heart 

By seeming semblance to itself ; and then 

To tear that heart as vulture rends his prey, 

That bleeds and quivers in its living death. 

For firm belief in some sweet Christian creed 

Essentia] was unto my nature as 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 123 

My daily bread ; I could not live without 

The strength it gave. I ne'er could look, abroad 

Upon tlie world without beholding there 

Such striking evidence of Love, Design, 

That had I never heard of Christ's great death, 

Nor of the blessings that it brought to man, 

I must have still gazed on the glowing skies, 

And listed to the music of the wind, 

And said within my spirit's inmost cell, 

The *' Great, Great Spirit " now is wooing me. 

He seemed to think my firm adherence to 

What I deemed duty as a wish to tlee 

From wifely love, obedience unto him. 

I prolfer'd change of creed, if he.would join 

Sincerely, rev'rently in any one, 

Save Popish doctrines : but he could not see 

That there was aught for him at all to do 

In this great matter save to govern me ; 

As though religion were a worldly thing. 

That one might have for one's whole family. 

I could not deem it thus ; and could not feel 

That moral obligations would allow 

A change ujion a basis such as this : 

Tlierefore he was exacting more with me, 

A^ccusing oft of foul hypocrisy. 

When I would strive in some poor, humble way 



124 FAITH, 

To follow paths where Christian duty lay ; 

Still seeming reckless of the better thought, 

That must, had he allow' d it, still have taught 

That there was something for him too to do : 

He would be free himself, but Christians bind 

To never show the frailties of mankind ; 

He would the "mote" discern in their poor eyes, 

Yet still the mighty "beam" in his desj^ise ; 

Besides, he had a female relative 

Who envious, joyed to see our lives divide. 

The breach kept wid'ning, till at last he'd speak 

In manner which my heart would almost break ; 

Would raise his hand with stern and cruel blow 

Towards her who e'er had prized his fondness so. 

! 'twas a living death to give him up ! 

To think the one I once had deemed so kind 

In grand concerns as these should prove so blind. 

Like Saul, he was so zealous in his views, 

1 could but hope for years that, too, like him, 
The "scales" might fall from off his eyes; and 

. then, [right — 

As Paul, he would as zealous prove in ways of 
O ! love like mine was sure idolatry. 
In all those days of early married bliss ! 
It seemed to me the bending of his arm, 
Encased in handsome suit had more of grace 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 125 

Than any other mortal's; and his foot 
Was more becoming to his shoe than e'er 
I'd seen before ; and when he'd mount his steed 
To ride away, I'd looli until he passed 
From view, admiring steed and rider too ; 
And when he had returned, no otlier man 
CoukI have dismounted with such perfect grace, 
And ease unto himself as he would do. 
And when he'd take me on his knee, and fold 
His loving arms about my form, and sing, 
"There's room enough in Paradise," I thought 
That Paradise had surely come to me. 
Sometimes in after years, I' d pray for him. 
With streaming eyes, until his heart would melt. 
And he would seem so like his former self, 
I could but nestle in his arms and weep 
Myself to sleep ; and then I'd hope for change, 
Sweet change in him — but ah ! His Word declares, 
"Some seed shall fall in seeming fertile ground. 
Spring quickly up, as quick be withered found"; 
And thus my every hope's fruition seemed 
But mockery of what I'd fondly dreamed 
Would come in lapse of years. The bitter cuji, 
I had so dreaded — I must give him up — 
And seek yon home above with lonely heart, . 
Seemed pressed unto my lips. Again — again — 



126 FAITH, 

I "begged the cup might pass" — 'twould still 

remain. 
But in those hours of dreadful agony 
The "Comforter" would come and bless my soul 
With nearer glimpse of lieav'n than e'er before. 
When night was dark, my weeping eyes were 

closed [stream," 

With bitt'rest thoughts, I'd see the "crystal 
And "loved ones gone before" beside it stand 
Within refreshing shades inviting me 
To come and rest beneath Life's glorious tree ; 
And something whisjier'd I should happy be 
Whene'er my soul from earthly strife was free. 
Faith : 

Had you no children, dear Fidelia ? I 
Would think a child had gladden' d then your 

heart. 
Fidelia : 
Yes, darling ! two : one was a lovely boy, 
■ The pride of his fond father's doting heart ; 
The other, sweetest girl I ever saw. 
And well belov'd by her dear father, too. 
I hoped so much his fond paternal love 
Would be God's means to instill within his heart 
Correcter views of life and duty ; for 
His children were the "aj^i^le of his eye" ; 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 127 

And for their sakes I hoped that he would try 
To find again the path of true home love, 
Where each to each might still a blessing prove. 
This, too, was vain — I saw it wither, die ; 
And then I knew the last fond hope was gone. 
Except the hope of Heav'nly Father's hand, 
Which He, in His own time, might stretch forth, 

and ["brand." 

He from the flames be i^lucked as burning 
I did not weep as bitterly as some 
Perhaps had done, when burning fever came 
On pestilential air and snatched from me 
My children's forms. For I had learned to fear 
To s^ them growing up beneath that roof. 
To have their lives embitter' d by his deeds, 
x'lnd words, and then go forth into the world 
With all its snares, unfitted for the strife. 
They placed them side by side in one deep grave ; 
And in that grave I buried every Iwpe, 
Save that of lieav'n above. — And soon he left 
His home to come no more : long years have 

passed, 
Nor single word have brought me of his fate ; 
And I suppose it likely he is dead. 
Yet sometimes in my'dreams I see his form, 
And hear his low, sweet tones caressing me. 



1 28 FAITH, 

And dare to think perhaps some lovely day, 

Just ere my spirit goes to meet its God, 

He'll come again with heart and mind all 

changed. 
To bless me with the tender love of yore ; 
As sunshine conies at eve of stormy day 
To cheer the weejung world with parting ray. 
Faith : 

' Tis very, very sad ! I scarce can see 
How you could live through trials like to tliese : 
It seems to me should a dear lover e'er 
Prove false, or least unkind to me. Fd die. 
Fidel /a : 

You know, my dear ! a promise has been inade. 
That "as we need, so shall new strength be 
giv'n": [lieav'n. 

Through this sweet ivromise some shall ent^r 
I've somewhere read that purest moral worth 
Has ever been a sure exciting cause 
Of hatred from God's enemies tow'rds all 
Who dare so brave the world as to prefer 
This worth to all its glitter and parade. 
And yet this self-same precious worth is sure 
To bring some healing for its own deep woes. 
i^nd were it not thus Christ Himself had sunk 
Beneath the sorrows of Gethsemane ; 



oil EARTHLY PAKADISE. 129 

For his great heart bewailed the more its weight 

Because His own disciples treacKrousliand 

Consigned Hiin to this crucible of grief. 

In suffering thus intensely for the wrongs 

That others do we but resemble Him, 

Who "tread the wine-press of God's wrath 

alone" ; 
And yet no unforgiving word was known 
To escape His lips : He died in grandeur there 
That we may imitate His life through prayer, 
And fnith and charity like unto His. 
How sweetly Paul sings of this charity ! 
And says, " It never i'aileth "; though the world, 
And all therein shall pass away, 'twill stand 
"The greatest of the three," in that bright land 
Where we shall see "not through a glass," but 

see 
Then " face to face " whatever each may be. 
And there, perhaps, it may be, I will lind 
My Eii(; not the worst of all mankind : 
There may have been in his unletter'd will 
Some noble traits I reckon'd not ; and still 
There may be some mysterious way of God 
To turn him from the j)ath he long has trod ; 
And when I reach yon brightly shining shore, 
We there may meet again to part no more. 



130 FAITH, 

Faith : 

Had you no other lovers % When this woe 
Came deluging your lonely heart-strings so, 
Did you not turn with fond remembrance then 
To other loves you ne'er shall see again, 
And hnd in thoughts of them some comfort deep 
For bitter grief that o'er your soul would sweep % 
Fidelia : 

Yes, several : one a gifted poet-boy, 
Who ever seemed to love his muse to employ 
In singing verses to " Fidelia's" j)raise ; 
And gladden d thus life's earliest summer days. 
Faith : 

The woman's blest who wins a poet's love. 
And strings his lyre for ages yet to come ; 
The man's a hero poetess doth sing ; 
For thousand hearts shall vibrate to their praise. 
And they who're crowned with honor grand as 

this 
Are surely blest to wake such wondrous lays, 
And can' t complain of lack of earthly bliss. 
Sometimes an undeserving one may strive 
To take high jilace within a poet's strain ; 
But his unearthly intuition gives 
Him warning : while a worthy one will find 
Song welling forth from gifted one lo him, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. iBl 

As birdling's music welcomes every spring ; 
Or as great rivers still v^ill find the sea, 
Howe'er remote their o^^n deep source may be. 
Didst never answer his sweet, touching strain ? 
Faith : 

Once, only once, answered back again ; 
For his proud muse would soar away so high 
I could not hope to reach it 'neath the sky, 
And was content to list unto its song, 
Tiiat all the while would How so sweet along. 
Faith : 

L:it's hear your verses to him ? I will keep 
Remembrance of them in my heart so deep 
' Twill woo my thoughts away when I wouhl weep 
Beside the grave where she I loved doth sleep. 
Fichdia : 

When Cohnnbia proudly claims thee 

As her great and noble son, 
When she honors and esteems thee 
For the laurels thou has won ; 
Think of me. 

Wlien the poets gladly crown thee 
With the wreaths that ne'er decay. 

And the sun of glory 'round thee 
Sheds its bright and dazzling ray ; 
Think of me. 



13'2 FAITH, 

When the eve of life retains thee 

On the pinnacle of fame, 
And the hope that now sustains thee 

Reaps a great and glorious name ; 
Think of me. 

Wlien thy dearest friends surround thee 

To receive thy las.t farewell, 
And thy spirit gladlj^ bears thee 

In Elysian fields to dwell ; 
Think of me. 

Faith: 

I thank you much : didst never write again 
When other lovers sought to win thy hand '. 
Fkldia : 

Yes, once again : a proud and gifted man. 
That few of all around could rightly know, 
Because he was supeiior to them so, [my side, 
By some strange chance would ofttimes seek 
His wit and eloquence tlt)wed in a tide 
Refreshing to my serious views of life. 
And made his visits all with pleasure rife. 
Sometimes he'd bring a book, sometimes fresh 

flowers 
To aid out converse through the sunny hours ; 
Sometimes he'd read in deep and thrilling tone 



OR EARTHY PARADISE. 133 

A piece from fa v' rite bard that when he'd gone 
Would linger still in mem'ry and in heart. 
Sometimes I'd play and sing some of his songs, 
With that sweet freedom tliat fore'er belongs 
To woman when she finds a noble heart 
In manhood's form, that will not censure throw 
On any act of kindness she may show. [learn 
He seemed surprised and j)leased that 1 should 
The verses he had penned for other friends, 
And which he seemingly had careless brought 
For me to read. He found my woman's heart 
Was free from every wile of woman's art, 
When she is striving other hearts to win. 
That no dark jealous throb e'er lodged within ; 
And thus I think his love for me began ; 
Which once begun, but in a torrent ran. 
And none save Eric's love e'er filled my soul 
Witli joy like that of his : he was so grand, 
So reticent to other beings, and 
With words and looks of tend 'rest love to me, 
His heart fiowed out in one unbounded sea. 
He was an orphan like myself ; yet we 
On many subjects still would disagree ; 
And then his lively badinage would throw 
A veil of humor o'er our converse so, 
' Twas sure to end by my soon giving o'er 



134 FA.ITH, 

To his opinion : y<^t in every jest 
There was the tone oi" one who loved me best 
Of all the world, who ne'er had loved before, 
And ne'er would love another woman more. 
He told his love in his peculiar way : 
Some show of j)leasantry w^s thrown around 
His tend' rest words; yet his expressive eye 
Revealed the fact its tear-drops then did lie 
Too near the surface for his firm control, 
And he was speaking from his inmost soul 
His love for me. I gave no answer then — 
Unless he read my answer in my face — 
Rut told him I would surely give it when 
He called again. That eve I wrote these lines 

I've been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! 

Of an hour that yet shall come, 
When mine eyes shall see the sunshine 

Of a bright and happy home. 

I've been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! 

Of a noble, manly form 
That shall share my hours of gladness. 

And x^rotect me from the storm. 

I've been dreaming! I've been dreaming ! 
How my orphan heart shall bound 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 135 

At the eclio of a footfall 

When that worthy one is found. 

r ve been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! 

How its every hope shall twine 
' Round the being that I cherish 

When that happy lot is mine. 

That night I dreamed of Eden's How'ry bloom, 
And Hugh and I were walking 'mid it there ; 
While ever and anon an angel song 
Came softly trembling on the evening air. 
How sweet is nature when we know we love, 
And are belov'd in turn ! Its ev'ry fiow'r 
Seems telling of our own affianced hour, 
Its gushing melody of wild-bird's song 
To our own dream of bliss must sure belong, 
And murm'ring accent of the wand' ring breeze 
Seems telling of that love to all the trees. 
Thank God for nature's beauty ! It shall last 
Till earth and time forever both are past ; 
While self-same joy that thrills youth's heart- 
strings now 
Shall thrill again with each successive vow 
Innumerable lovers all shall i)light, 
Before there'll come the pall of nature's night, 



1 36 FAITH, 

Which ushers in the grand celestial throne, 
Where only joys more lasting shall be known. 
Faith : 

And where are now your lovers ? Both are true, 
I know, where'er they be, still true to you. 
Fidelia : 

The former now is high on lists of fame, 
Unfading laurels crown his deathless name ; 
And yet they say he ne'er has thought to wed, 
Though sprinkled with light gray's his honored 
His early love perhaps he has forgot [head : 

In all the whirl of life — perhaps has not. 
The other left me on that beauteous eve 
To come no more. 'Twas said a message brought 
Strange news to him ; and that he went afar. 
He wrote me word he ne'er would love but me. 
And begged me ever faithful to him be : 
A few more weeks there came a sad report 
That he had died in distant city, and 
In death had vowed his love for only me. 
I grieved full long : then Eric came ; we loved ; 
And thus my life hath e'er so luckless proved. 
Faith : [thonght 

And yet, methinks, there's comfort in the 
Two constant lovers have your spirit sought ; 
And proved, the one in life, the one in death. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 137 

Their heart's best treasures they did both 

bequeath. 
Fidelia : 

Yes, I believe if now they both should come, 
I'd welcome them alike to my sad home, 
And cherish them as brothers kind and true, 
Who ne'er but love for their dear sister knew : 
I hear of one's advancement with fond pride. 
Because he once hath lingered at my side ; 
The other one I trust hath gone to heav'n, 
With heart all fresh, and ev'ry sin forgiv'n. 
Leander, entering : 

I thank you much, Fidelia, that you came 
To comfort my poor child when I was gone ; 
'Tis sad, indeed, to leave her here alone. 
Faith : 

O, father ! she hath cheered my wretched heart 
As no one else had done : I wouhl she could 
Always abide with me, that when my grief 
Seems overflowing she might sppak relief. 
Leaiider : 

Yes, 'twould be cheerful sometimes were she 
here. 
Where now, when I am gone, ' tis all so drear. 
FaM : 

Wilt dwell with me Fidelia? I can prize 



1 38 KATTH, 

The love-Jight now witJiin those sadden'd eyes ; 
And tlion slialf, be an ehler sister dear 
Thy younger sister's sorrowing steps to cheer, 
Fidelia : 

' 'I'were sure but right if I can thus bestow 
Some comfort on thee never hence to go ; 
For in this briglit, this wide, this s'linny earth 
No one dotli better prize my own poor worth, 

[Exeunt Leander and Faith. 
Fidelia, alone : 

The night is dark ; I scarce can grope my way ; 
For ch)uds are low'ring : yet I know the morn 
Shall break forth gloriously ! Why should earth 
So glad to youth : so sorrowful to age ^ [seem 
Tt can not be because we less deserve ; 
For all who live, and love, and strive to do 
Their Maker's will must gain some faint api)roach 
Towards Deity. And is not this because 
The more we suffer, are refined thereby, 
The more we bear some faint resemblance to 
That perfect type of man and Godhead who 
Once died in life because of mortal's sins. 
And lived in death because of Godhood's worth f 
And when we look with genial, loving eye 
On youth and youth I'ul grace, does not the 
tliouglit 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 139 

That in that youth there dwells the ojerm of nge 
Oft give our heai'ts their gladness ? We revere 
That we deem old : and are not human souls 
Beyond all time in reck'ning ? And these give 
Their all of beauty, gi-ace, or worth unto 
Our fragile forms— O ! I have often talked 
With aged woman who has thought, a. deal. 
In dreaiy hours of night, about the soul, 
Its origin, its mission, destiny, 
Until I almost felt the " veil was rent," 
And I were walking 'mid the glory -beams 
Of spirit-presences that cluster ' round 
The one Great Throne Eternal ! I have wept 
O'er some great sorrow till my heart it seemed 
Had burst asunder ; and the loving hand 
Of Mary's loving Son Himself had healed 
Its broken fragments with His wondrous toucii. 
And strung it all afresh beside the stream 
Of "living waters": while my "loved ones lost, 
And gone before," but seemed more near and 
dear [balm ? 

Than e'er in life ! Canst tell me whence this 
' Tis not of proud Philosophy ; for vain 
Would be each effort by my reason's pow'r 
To be thus moved ; and Science knows no law 
That goes beyond the mind, and finds the soul. 



140 FAITH, 

Yea ! I have heard a gifted preacher speak 
Until his theme had borne me to the line 
Where reason flags — and then a wondrons pow'r, 
Not born of earth, stretched forth its bnoyant 

wings, 
And bore my spirit to the very gates 
Of what we term the ' ' New Jerusalem ! ' ' 
My mortal ears could almost catch the sound. 
Across the splashing waves of Jordan's stream, 
That wakes the vast expanse we know as Heav'n 
With seraph-singing: and my mortal eyes. 
Disdaining earthly sights, could almost glimpse 
That "house not made with hands" where God 

now dwells ; 
And all my being seemed as new and fresh 
As though I just had come from His own hand. 
Are we not kin to God % Did not His Son 
Once dwell on earth to teach us that we are 
His " younger brothers," and "joint heirs" with 

Him 
Of life beyond ? Ah, yes ! we can not die ! 
And it were worth an age of care and woe. 
Of desolation, grief of heart to know 
That we shall spend one hour with Him on high; 
That these poor earthly temples shall be built 
Upon a nobler plan, so spiritual. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 141 

That tliey shall aid, not clog us in our march 
Through endless ages on towards Deity ; 
That there our souls, unfetter'd by their rude 
Companionship with clay, shall merge and merge. 
As years eternal sweep their cycles on, 
More towards their Great Original, the God 
Who says "I was, and am, and shall be e'er"; 
While earth, and hell, and heav'n shall all proclaim 
The matchless glories of His Triune Name. 

Angels sing : 

O ! the balm, the " balm of Gilead," 

That hath follow' d Adam's fall. 
It can cure with surest healing 

Earthly sorrows, one and all ! 
O ! the wondrous stream of Mercy 

Plowing from the Saviour's side. 
It can cleanse the mighty nations 

With its sweeping currents wide. 

O ! the wooings of that Spirit 

Christ Himself did deign to send. 
When through mortal hate and envy 

His grand mission found an end — 
Yet not ending ; for it bringeth 

Comfort to each aching heart, 
And a gladness that can never 

Through Eternity depart. 



1? 



142 FAlTlt, 

Then, O ! then, shall each blest spirit 

Drink from out Life's "crystal stream, 
Till the burden of its sorrows 

Shall appear but as a dream, 
That could mar its pleasure only 

For a j)assing moment, while 
Endless and ecstatic ages 

It shall bask in God's own smile. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — Hubert's Love for Faith ; or the Teviptation. 

H'lihei't, entering : 

I'm glad to tell you, sir! we'll have a speech 
To-night, more brilliant than has here been heard 
Since earlier days of this Repul)lic ; for 
Theodoric addresses citizens 
On obligations of our ev'ry law. 
As found iti Constitution of the States. 
'Tis said that some will there be present, too. 
To damp his ardor lest it rise too high 
In cause of truth and justice. I have come 
To bring a message from my sister for 
Miss Faith : with her consent we'll take her, too ; 
For well we know her rev'rence of the right. 
And think she'll much enjoy the brave defense 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 143 

Durable Senator will make to-niglit 
In cause of sorrowing nation's liberty, 
And condemnation of chicanery 
Prevailing far too much throughout the land. 

Leander : 

I am rejoiced to know he will em^^loy 

His eloquence and wisdom in defense 

Of freedom, and the people's bleeding rights. 

I'll go myself ; for long my heart hath mourned 

The desolation spread throughout the land, 

Resulting from corruption in high place. 

No doubt my daughter will be glad to know 

Miss Lilian and yourself both prize her so, 

Desiring her sad j)resence in the throng. 

She has been grieving here at home full long 

For one so young : perhaps 'twill cheer her heart 

To list to oratory's healing art, 

And mingle with the crowd as others do. 

And then ' twill much instruct her too ; for she 

Is quite ambitious in her wish to be 

The peer of any, in her woman's way : 

I'll go and tell her of the news you bring. 

[Exit Leander. 
Hubert, alone: 

Ah ! I had thought wlien we were coming back. 

And Lilian's lover lingered slow along 



1 44 FAITH 



The way with her, and moon was shining bright, 
And Heav'n was smiling, and the city lay 
So sweet and qniet in the lap of night, 
That I would tell her of my manhood's love ; 
And hox)ed perhaps it too might aid to heal 
The grievous sorrow that her heart doth feel — 
But he is going too ! What shall I do ? 
It must be known to her — I can't delay 
For longer time to tell her of my love. 
Faith, entering : 

I'm quite obliged to Lilian and yourself 
For kindness shown ; and will be sure to go. 
I have not heard a grand oration for 
So long a time I think 'twill rouse niv mind 

CD *J 

To olden dreams of glory, and thus break 

Tlie chains my sorrow weaves for weejjing's sake. 

Hnhenrt : 

I thought you never dreamed of glory : I 
Remember well your earnest reference 
To mission-cause, now sev'ral years ago, 
And deemed your heart did ne'er but duty know, 
Faith : 

^ Tis true, for years I have desired to be 
To duty faithful whatsoe'er betide ; 
But in the far-off yeai-s of long ago 
Ambition's dreams I, too, once learned to know : 



UR EARTHLY PARADISE. 145 

But they are past ; I see life as it is, 
And would not liave ambition be its star ; 
To hear that speech will bring again the bliss 
I once enjoyed in dreams of glory ; while 
'Twill not divert me from mv Father's smile. 
Hubert : 

I tliink a high ambition worth the life. 
All spent in deep devotion to its cause, 
Of worthiest man. It must be nobly grand 
To realize we have the pow'r to sway 
Such audience vast as waits for him to-day. 
And lead it by the accents of one's tongue 
Through llow'ry meads, or mountain-i)atlis along : 
To see the highest, noblest in the land 
Pay homage to your nat'ral gift so grand. 
The men of proudest intellect as well 
As hum])ler ones all own the magic spell 
Of matchless eloquence ; while woman's smile 
Of sweet appreciation cheers the while — 
O ! I would give a royal kingdom now 
If but one half the honor crowned my brow 
Theodoric has worn for years ; for I 
Have fa V 'rite scheme to be advanced thereby. 
Faith : 

And whj^, at not a very distant day. 
Should you not wear sucli laurels as his own \ 



146 FAITH, 

You know the proverb, " will but makes a way" 

To almost anything : and I believe 

Were you or any one, to center all 

Their hopes, exertions towards some single aim 

The world would surely recognize your fame. 

There's much of usefulness before the man 

Wlio with a patriot heart, and patient mind 

Will study well his Country's interests now. 

I honor all such students far too well 

To aught detract from bright bewitching spell 

That gifted tongue may add to such career ; 

And yet to me there is a path more dear 

For manhood's noblest worth ; but you and I 

Have each the right to well admire the path 

Whichever our own best endeavors hatli. 

Hubert, taking a seat beside her : 

But would that you could think as I in this : 
I'm young ; some say I'm gifted ; and my life 
Perhaps might prove a blessing to mankind, 
Were I but aided by a noble wife. 
Who'd cheer me on in glory's toilsome way. 
I know of none so worthy as yourself. 
Of none whom my fond heart could e'er prefer 
To stand beside me when I reached the chair 
Of Presidential office. 'Tis my dream 
To In-ing such honor on some woman's life, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 147 

To be the husband of a lovely wife 

Who will not wed me for promotion's sake, 

And yet who will a lively int'rest take 

In every thing j^ertaining to my weal, 

And sweetest joy in all my honors feel. 

It seems to me a woman well might love 

One who for her could thus so valiant prove ; 

One who would strive with every fleeting breath 

Not only dearest home-joys to ]>equeatli, 

But who would gladly toil to place her name 

Along with heroes' on the lists of fame ; 

One who amid his triumphs all would pause 

To listen gladly to his wife's ap})lause, 

As famous statesman o'er tlie waters far, 

D'lsiaeli, but found his guiding star 

To earthly greatness in his wife's sweet smile, 

More cherished than the world's applause the 

while. 
I would not win a love to leave her lone 
While I in glory's lists were l)attling on ; 
I'd have her alway gladly at my side 
To cheer and comfort whatsoe'er betide — 
And O ! how blest such mission here would l)e 
With woman aiding, cheering it as thee ! 
A woman who would prize her liusband's fame, 
One who would yield her life for his fair name, 



148 ♦ FAITH, 

Wlio'd gladly share his ev'ry triumph sweet, 
Whose heart unto his own would thrilling beat, 
And yet whose soul could ne'er be led away 
By glaring splendors lighting up his way 
From strictest path of duty ; one who'd prize 
His proud success as gift from out the sides, 
Yet, who amid its glories all the while 
Would far prefer her Saviour's loving smile 
To anything that earth could give — O ! I 
For such true being glad would live or die ! 
I feel that time could never, never bring, 
In all its sweep, on sad, disastrous wing 
A sorrow or a disappointment which 
His precious love could not away bewitch, 
And by its own undying faithfulness 
Still bid me struggle <m through each distress. 
Though countless snares around my feet were 

cast, 
With surest hope of conq'ring Fate at last ! 
When I was wearied by my spirit's toil. 
When tempter would my bright escutcheon soil, 
She would be there to win me from his wile, 
She would be there to cheer me with her smile. 
Until, with strength renewed, I'd join the fight 
Again to battle, conquer for the right. [know 
The world would sound my praise ; it would not 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 149 

The stream of heav'nly comfort fiowing so 

That e'er with vig'rous youth would me baptize; 

' Twoukl wonder at my flight towards sunny skies, 

But would not know the sweet, unearthly pow'r 

That made it possible to rise that hour. 

Nor would it dream of half my transport when 

Returning from apx)lauded labors then 

Vd find at home my dearest cup of bliss 

In her apiireciation of all this ; 

And fi'om that fount of love again go forth 

To conquer still the world through manhood's 

worth. 
O Faith ! you know not how a man may love ! 
It is not possible for me to prove 
The truth of all my tongue hath fondly said, 
Unless, my precious one ! we two shall wed : 
In that event in lapse of coming time 
You'll iind your heart responding unto mine 
In ev'ry thought I'vepictur'd now for thee — 
And canst thou not that sweet companion be 
Who on my way shall shed such i-adiant light. 
Who shall adorn my loftiest pathway bright. 
And who shall be my dearest one through life. 
My best-beloved, my own, my noble wife ? 
Faith : 
If it were i^ossible for me to love, 



150 FAITH, 

I feel that God would give me strength to prove. 
Through His assistance, sncli as that to thee. 

Hubert^ warmly : 

And is it possible that in this world, 
With so much beauty 'round thee all unfurled, 
With earth so radiant, nnd with heav'n above — 

! is it possible thou canst not love ? 

1 thought thou liadst a heart as others have ; 
I did not deem because God surely gave 
Thee mental worth above thy fellows He 
Could still deny a loving heart to thee ? 

Faith, warmly: 

I am not heartless : mine is warm and true 
As truest loving woman ever knew. 

Hubert, more composed: 

Then list, O ! list unto thy lover's song ; 
And as its every measure Hows along. 
Remember tis for thee that song is sung, 
For no one else its accents ever rung : 

(Hubert, plays and shir/s.) 

The flow' rs are all blooming; my heart's bloom- 
ing too, 
And turns in its gladness, its blossoms to you, 
They're freighted with odors as soft as the breeze 
When Inlaying at evening on crest of the trees. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. Wl 

The winds are all sighing ; my heart's sighing too, 

And turns in its anguish for comfort to you ; 

O ! sj^eak but one word, and that sadness shall 

iiee— 
As shadows when morning breaks over the sea. 

The trees are all budding ; my heart's budding too, 
And turns its sweet embryo leaflets to you ; 
If you will but heed me, those leaflets will ope. 
For love blossoms freely 'neath sunshine of hope. 

The waves are all moaning ; my heart's moaning 

too, 
And waits in its sorrow for message from you ; 
That message would cheer it as calm soothes the 

storm, [form. 

As clouds grow resplendent in rainbow's bright 

The sunshine is glowing ; my heart's glowing too, 
It burns with the fondest affection for you. 
And throbs in the hoj)e of an answering ray 
As earth gladly greets the bright dawning of day. 

The birds are all singing ; my heart's singing too. 
And breathes every note of its music for you ; 
The birds will desert you when winter-winds blow, 
My love shall be yours through life's sunshine 
and snow. 



152 FAITH 



The earth is revolving ; my heart's moving too, 
In all its lone wanderings is turning to yon ; 
Then O ! like the sun, let me bask in your smile, 
While seasons and years shall but roll on the 
while. 

The sky is all radiant ; my heart's radiant too. 
The liglit of its glory is borrow' d from you ; • 
The dark clouds may gather o'er bright beaming 

sky, 

True love's most resplendent when shadows are 
nigh. 

I love thee ! I love thee ! Creation's great chart 
Reflects but that love back again to my heart ; 
And since the whole universe teems with its bliss. 
Thou surely canst give but one answer to this. 

{Hubert rising from the harp and 

taking a seat beside her, 

finds her loeeping.) 

Art sad, my love? O! what can bring those 
tears 
To eyes that erst had roused my spirit's fears. 
Lest thou wert all immovable 1 Canst love 
The heart that longs its highest worth to prove 
In living or in dying but for thee ? 
Canst not my darling one consent to be '{ 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 153 

Faith ^ recoveimg her composure : 

I wept because I prize your noble love, 
It seemeth bright as angels know above — 
But, O ! my heart is not my own to give : 
My truth is pledged, not for myself to live. 
But for a hero who has gone afar 
From home and love, to follow Duty's star. 
He is the chosen one of this fond heart ; 
Though noble, true, and generous thou art. 
Too true and hon'rable, well I know 
To wish me e'er my truth and love forego. 
To wed another when my love's away, 
Howe'er remote may be the distant day 
When he shall come again. I prize your love : 
It greatly doth my inmost spirit move ; 
Because it seems so like unto my own. 
Which I so long, so earnestly have known 
For Theodore — pride of my woman's heart — 

{tShe sliows Mm the ring?) 
He gave me this when ready to depart ; 
And it has ever been the magic charm 
To keep my heart, my words, my life from harm. 
You see the sweet inscription written there ? 
For ev'ry path my feet it doth prepare. 
And nerves me in this doubly trying hour 
To realize the grand, unearthly power 



154 FAITH, 

Of single word like this. Yes, '•''Duty'''' says 

Thou must forego tlie hallow'd shining rays 

Of fondest love that woman e'er could give, 

Did not her heart true to its first love live. 

You can not love me and refuse belief 

That love like thine must bring my sx)irit grief, 

Because it sympathizes in thy woe, 

And still would wish to spare the bitter blow 

This love must bring thy manly, bleeding heart. 

Hubert^ earnestly : 

How can my dreams, my hopes of bliss dej^art ? 
O, Faith ! you surely have not deeply thought 
Of all the risk with which your choice is fraught. 
Thy love is gone beyond the boundless sea. 
How canst thou know he'll e'er return to thee? 
A thousand dangers compass him around 
That in this land could scarcely e'er be found : 
He knows not when the darksome night draws 

nigh 
He e'er again shall greet the morning sky ; 
For treachery and murder stalk around 
In midnight terror o'er that heathen ground. 
The winds are laden with diseases there 
That clime like t!iis could scarcely fear to share : 
And then should he escape these dangers all, 
The sea's between you like a fun'ral pall ; 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 155 

He may be safe until he sees this land, 
And still go down upon the stormy strand : 
And then thy heart would surely, surely break, 
Because the next best love thou didst not take ; 
For love like mine would cherish still but thee, 
Though it should not thy heart's first bloss'ming 

see. 
But should he safe return, how canst thou go 
To that far land e'en when he loves thee so ? 
I know thy heart hath known religious joys, 
That thou dost prize them more than earthly noise 
Of health and pomp, and fame ; but how canst 
Unto a fate so drear as that e'er bowl [thou 

Canst sacrifice thy matchless woman's worth 
On heathen shores afar from friends and home, 
Where news from native land can seldom come? 
I know 'tis grand to think of such a fate : 
But, Faith, reflect; 'tis hard as well as great. 
I've reason to believe my darling hope. 
With thee to aid me as I bravely cope, 
Will be rewarded by the highest j)hice 
That manhood's worth on earth could ever grace. 
I've reasons great that I've not given thee, 
To justify this darling hope of life, 
That some bright future day I'll surely be 
The highest officer in all this land ; 



156 FAITH 



And earth knows not another i)lace so grand 
In all her kingdoms and her emi)ires far 
As that which shines to-day my beacon star. 
My plans are all matured ; with thee to cheer, 
While still the noon of life is ling'ring here, 
This place is mine — I can not give thee up ! 
My heart must still refuse the bitter cup 
That thou wouldst press unto rebellious lips ; 
The woman who doth all her sex eclipse 
Must be my own, my chosen one, my wife, 
Must share with me, and guide my sunny life ? 
Faith^ earnestly : 

O Hubert ! it is vain —thy precious love ! 
God's Spirit now sends comfort from above 
To my poor lonely heart. Shovdd Theodore 
Ne'er live to see his native country more ; 
Should murd'rer's hand, or dread disease convey 
His spirit ready to his God away ; 
Or should he die in sight of this fair land, 
And I behold him sinking from the strand, 
This thought might still some consolation throw 
Upon my bleeding heart in all its woe : 
I e'er was true to promise to him grn'ri ; 
1 still might hope to meet his soul in heav'n. 
But should I list unto your pleadings now. 
Should your bright fame encircle too my brow, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 157 

What earthly bliss could ever half atone 
For anguish to my heart most surely known, 
Because I'd plighted all my spirit's worth 
To him I deemed the noblest one of earth ; 
And when he'd fondly trusted that sweet vow, 
Could his true heart with bitterness so bow 
As break my pledge to him, and give it thee ? 
I could not drink such bitter cup as this : 
To love and lose him were a draught of bliss 
Compared to self-rep; oach when others smiled, 
And earthly honors other woes beguiled. 
But could not reach the seat of this deep grief. 
Nor hope to bring it one brief hour's relief. 
O Hubert ! thou art noble ! Yet some day. 
When thou hast older grown, perhaps thou' It say 
Thou wert not wise in all thy manhood's worth 
To choose as best the highest place of earth. 
When thou shalt list unto the Spirit-Power 
That breathes around thee ever in each hour, 
And find thy Saviour's precious smile far more 
Than eartlily triumphs of the greatest store, 
Or honor, thou wilt surely learn to know 
The heav'nly strength that girds man's spirit so, 
And woman's too, when they can willing take 
Such cross as ours, and bear it for His sake. 
Sometime thou'lt read the beaut' ous story told 



158 FAITH, 

Of one who heard the Saviour speak, a young 
And noble man, and then who asked of Him : 
" What shall I do to have eternal lifef'' 
And thou wilt think on what tliat aviour said 
'''Sell that thou hast^ give to the poor, that thou 
Shalt treasure have in heav'n : and follow me." 
' Tis love like this can gird my woman's heart 
Some day perhaps to willing hence depart 
To that benighted land beyond the sea ; 
' Twas love like this in him, so grand and free, 
That won me ever for his own to be. 
I can appreciate exalted worth 
Of highest worldly office on the earth ; • 
But I esteem it nobler, grander far 
When manhood follows only '' Dutif s" star, 
And would prefer to die in Mission-cause 
To hearing all triumphant loud applause 
That could be thine in highest earthly state ; 
For 'tis the motive makes the action great. 
And what could be a motive half so high 
As that which leads to home beyond the sky '{ 
Ambition such as yours is best of earth ; 
But Theodore's has some of heav'n's own w*orth 
' Tis this can cheer my lonely, waiting heart. 
Hubert, sadly : 
To come thus far ; and now to sad depart 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 159 

Is like to almost ent'ring- Eden' s gate, 

Then hear the angels say : " too late ! too late ! " 

Or like the grief of Moses' faithful heart 

When Canaan's long-sought land was blooming 

nigh, 
Yet lonely he on Nebo's mount must die ! 
I prize thy precious, noble woman's worth ; 
I would not have thee prize me less because 
I yielded to high Heav'n's unwritten laws, 
That bade me seek in thine my spirit's mate, 
Sliall bid me grieve for aye, too late ! too late ! 
Thou surely canst esteem a heart like mine, 
E'en when 'tis disappointed at thy shrine'^ 
Faith, liindly : 

No worthy, noblejnan e'er cherished me 
Enough to offer all his heart and life. 
That I could e'er regard l)ut with esteem ; 
And rather far than trample on that heart, 
I'd willing feel my last life-throb depart. [wed 
They are my honored friends : and when they 
I pray for brightest blessings on each head ; 
Their wives and little ones fore' er to nie 
Almost as kindred seem, so near they be. 
For we are kindred by a spirit-tie 
That in earth's truest souls can never die. 
I'll look with gladness on your proud success 



inO FAITH, 

When you've attained the place towards which 

you press ; 
And shoukl you fail to win it I will be 
As faithful still as truest one to thee. 
My friendship is a tiow'r that si)rings from wortli, 
And not from showy pageantries of earth; 
I'd prize a friend in highest earthly place, 
I'd soothe that friend beneath the world's disgra(?e 
If I believed him worthy still to be : 
A change of circumstance is naught to me ; 
Tile diamond is a diamond 'neatli the earth 
As well as wdien the world ai)plauds its worth ; 
Tlie pearl a pearl within the surging sea 
As well as when the bridal gift it be. 
I love to think there are some noble minds 
Wliose vision proud })osition never blinds. 
Whose hearts are still the same 'neath hon' ring- 
fame 
As erst they were before earth heard their name ; 
' Tis my bright dream of life and time that must 
Be mine until this heart is laid in dust ; 
And it shall be a part of heav'n to me 
To find in this belief no change can be. 
I wish thee all of jo}^ that earth can bring — - 
And add, O ! add not to my suffering 
By sad withdrawal of i liy fiiendship's pow'r. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 161 

Which can so soothe the sorrows of this hour. 

I prize thy friendship as no other man' s ; 

Still let it be a part of all my plans 

To know thou art forever dearest friend, 

That this fond friendship ne'er on earth can end, 

Hubert : 

A friend to tlieef Yes, darling ! ever friend, 
Such as thy God above alone can send ; 
A friend who loves thee as a brother now, 
A friend who'd gladly soothe thy aching brow 
With laurel-wreaths ; who pledges manhood's 

vow 
That e'er while life shall last, and we shall live, 
His purest, holiest friendship e'er to give ; 
A friend who loves thee best of all the earth, 
A friend who knows thy priceless woman's worth, 
And who will strive to do his Maker's will 
That he may keep thy precious friendship still. 
Wilt go with me to night ? My heart ' twill cheer 
To shelter at my side the one so dear. 
Faith : 

Yes, for my own can find sweet comfort, too, 
In his protection who's so kind and true. 
Hahert : 

Then, dearest one, farew^ell ! till that blest hour 
When I again shall bow unto the power 



162 FAITH, 

01" woman's noblest worth, that ever leaves 
Some solace with the heart it sadly grieves. 

\^Exit Hubert. 

Faith alone, loeeps, and plays, and sings : 
I miss thee, O my darling ! in the morn 
When nature's beauty shines so fresh and fair, 

When God doth seem to cheer my heart forlorn 
With all the loveliness reflected there. 

I miss thee, darling ! at the noontide hour. 
When sunshine gilds my home with brightest 
ray, 

I miss the radiance of the spirit-pow'r, 
Which shed such luster o'er my youthful way. 

I miss thee, darling ! at the eventide 
When sunbeams sink away to their deep rest ; 

And in the realms of dreamland wander wide 
Through flow'ry fields with thine own presence 
blest. 

I miss thee, O my darling ! when fond love 
Of noble, manly heart is proffer 'd mine ; 

I long for words that could so winning prove, 
As e'er my heart and life to render thine. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 163 

And wilt thou come, my darling? Wilt thou 
come 

From far away beyond the stormy sea? — 
O ! ' tis so lonely in my sadden' d home 

Away from Mother, darling ! and from thee. 

Angels sing : 

O the treasure ! O the treasure ! 

Of a pure, unspotted heart. 
With its wealth of heav'nly virtues, 

Such a being as thou art ; 
O the grandeur I O the grandeur ! 

Of thy spirit's mission here ; 
E'en within the realms of glory 

Angel-hearts thy truth can cheer. 

Bearing onward ! Bearing upward ! 

With thy cross of bitter pain ; 
Never failing ! Never doubting ! 

Piety to be true gain : 
From the world thy heart hath chosen 

One of loftiest spirit-mould. 
And we can but cheer thy pathway 

Till thine eyes shall Him behold. 



1 64 FAITH, 

Scene II. — Reginald' s Revenge. 

Ophelia., alone : 

It does seem very strange that my whole life 
Should be o'ershadow'd by another's thus : 
When we were college-girls she always took 
The highest premiums, and ever called 
Forth loudest praises from our teachers all. 

! I remember how my spirit burned 
With indignation as I saw the look ■ 
Of admiration from his soul-lit eye 

So fixed upon her as she read those lines 

In valedict'ry on Commencement day, 

That now have seemed to turn his eai*thly fate. 

1 might have won that grandly gifted man, 
But for her excellences : now I stand 
Upon the portal of old-maidenhood, 

And there's no chance that he will e'er be mine; 
For should he woo me now I'd never go 
To bury my dear self, in that far land ; 
The heathen all might perish over there 
Before I'd link my life to such a fate. 
But had I won him in the former years. 
He might have now been living in this land. 
And fame had crowned his genius all so grand 
With deathless splendor ; and my name had been 
As proud as mortal woman e'er might win. 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 165 

And when I've silent borne this bitter weight, 

To hear that Hubert now doth only wait 

Her willingness to make his life her own 

Is harder still : he is the proudest where 

The pride of this great land do congregate, 

And highest honors on his future wait. 

She's so ungrateful too : for Theodore 

Has gone alone to distant heathen shore, 

And Hubert hopes to win her love no more. 

The prize that other hearts would gladly win 

She dares disdain, and thinks it is no sin 

To trample thus on all our X)uny lives : 

But pow'r to hate eternally survives 

In this revengeful bosom. I would see 

Her heart-strings quiver in a deeper woe 

Than e'er my own unhappy life hath known ; 

I'd see her topple from her high estate, 

I'd see her scorned by all both small and great, 

And her sweet home-life made most desolate. 

I know it is unwomanly to hate ; 

But who could see their ev'ry wish decay, 

And yet not hate the author of dismay ; 

Who could relinquish dearest hope in life, 

And give it up without a deadly strife ''< 

There may be some, who claim to angels be. 

Who think they can ; but there's no chance for me, 



166 FAlTli 



While she is so belov'd, to e'er be free 
Of deepest hate. I'd see some dreadful change 
Come o'er her life so sad, and yet so strange, 
That Hubert would withdraw his noble love ; 
And my fond hopes might yet successful prove. 
Reginald^ entering : 

I've found out all about it : how he turned 
Her head against me when mine brightly burned 
With fond affection for his only child. 
He deemed me all unworthy ; thought me wild ; 
And took her home to keep her from my smiles, 
And wooing. Oh ! I'll make him feel how sad 
The weight of woe seems to a heart erst glad ; 
I'll wring his soul with just as bitter pain 
As e'er is mine when thinking o'er again 
The prize he kept from me. You know how 
And elevated all his views of life, [proud 

And how he scorns a deed of low design : 
You knew not how he foiled a plan of mine 
When you and Faith were class-mates off at 

school. 
He may have deemed me then a beardless fool ; 
But now I am a full-grown man, and know 
All that it meant, that unexpected blow 
To my fond heart an 1 pride. He should have 

deemed 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 167 

Himself and fam'ly honor' d that I dreamed 
To link my fate with her's : she had no gold 
To win me t) her side ; our fam'ly 's old, 
And thousands of most fertile acres lay 
All s idling in luxuriance to-day 
Around our dwelling— it was honor grand 
That I e'er stooped to offer her my hand. 
But I've not yet enough possessions : I 
Would be so wealthy that the world would cry. 
Whene'er it saw me grandly passing by : 
" There goes the richest man in all the state ! " 
This, this to me would be the loftiest fate 
That I could crave ; and then your waiting hand 
Would soon be sought by mightiest in the land, 
And we would wake in both their jealous hearts 
The pangs of envy with its cruel darts ; 
While she would weep to find that never more 
That same bright pledge of love I'd give to her, 
And he would sigh, when looking at old maid 
Within his home, for what I once have said ; 
But Reginald would come, would come no more 
To brighten with his presence humble door 
Of such as he : I'd win some wealthy girl, 
And we would spend our lives in fashion's whirl 
So glad and gay, the world would pause and sigh 
At all the style and grandeur passing by — 



168 FAITH, 

! would it not be glorious to live 

Witli all the joys that such a life could give? 
Ophelia : 

Methinks it would be surely ; and that 1 
Might then some pleasure see before 1 die. 
My tliirtieth birthday now is drawing nigh, 
And yet no gleam of hope I can descry 
In my horizon's gloomy bounds : I see 
Naught but a life of loneliness for me ; 
For when you wed it will be lonelier far 
Than now : I have no chosen "guiding-star," 
As some poor brainless creatures say they have. 
To cheer them o'er life's smooth or boist'rous 
wave. 

1 do hate sentiment ! But give me wealth, 

And wealthy friends, and good degree of health, 

A nd I can be far ha|)pier in my way 

Than poet ever sung in loftiest lay — 

A lay indeed ! a sentimental cheat. 

To rob life of its real jileasures sweet. 

To shower laurels 'round the songster's feet. 

I'd have no " poetry " in my glad life ; 

If e'er I wed I'll be a happy wife 

So long as bills are paid, and he shall come 

Occasionally to our splendid home 

Nor would I wish to ever be ' ' tied down ' ' 



OK KAKTHLY PARADISE. 169 

To children's whims, or servants' wicked frown : 
I'd live for my own enjoyment ; and when he 
Was gone to meet engagements I would see 
How very gay and happy I could be 
Surrounded by the splendors that he gave — 
No ! I will never be my husband's slave ! 
If either had to live that wretched life 
I would prefer 'twere he, and not his Avife — 
But I must now prepare for that grand ball ; 
They say the most elite of dwellers all 
In this proud city will be there to-night, 
And I must all eclipse in beauty bright, 

[Exit 02)helia. 
Recfinald^ alone : 

I wish that sister were a little more 
Devoted to true pleasures than she is : 
But then I have no other kindred near, 
And must uphold her every whim so dear, 
Until some other man will do the same, 
And I escape the thrall with naught of blame 
From any one. I'd much prefer to-night 
To think a ain on that old vision bright 
That cheered my boyhood, of true woman's worth : 
But I must go ; for not for all the earth 
Would she be there without her brother too, 
To dangle 'round whatever she may do ; 



170 J'AITII, 

Then leave her side as soon as she may find 
An escort better suited to her mind. 
I might have been a very different man 
Perhaps, had some one nobler lived to plan 
My life for me — but I will not regret 
Existence ; for it has sweet pleasures j^et. 
Alas ! alas ! I almost had forgot 
That Rosalind is dying ! She has not 
Forgotten j)romise that I yester made, 
That I would see her in her coffin laid, 
And borne to rest beneath the cypress-shade. 
What bitter, bitter mem'ries o'er me come ! 
How true that heart I cruel wasted so ! 
How drear that life my own can never know ! 
Her heart was breaking many a weary year 
Before she died — and yet I was so dear 
Through all to her ! How can my God forgive 
The crimes with which I gayly dare to live ? 
How can the blood of Christ e'er wash away 
The stain of foulest murderer to-day ? 
How shall I stand before that great white throne 
Where my deep wickedness on earth is known, 
And all the world is staring then at me ? 
Where, O my God ! O where can I tlien flee 
From Thy dread outraged presence to be free^ 
But hush, my heart ! It is not manly thus 



OR ElARTItLY PARADISE. 171 

To mourn thy crimes — why, others are as foul 
As I have ever been ; and yet they live 
With every joy that present life can give. 
I will not be a woman — hush, my heart ! 
And let poor Rosalind in peace dex)art : 
She will not need the solace of my voice 
In yon bright realms where angel-forms rejoice ; 
She's " washed her robes," and made them " spot- 
less white" ; 
Would I could be as happy half to-night 
As she was yesterday. She e'en forgave 
The wretch who brought her lower than a slave ; 
And pointed him to Christ with hope to meet 
That wretch again in lieav'nly mansions sweet — 
But be not woman's, O my aching heart ! 
A man's, a full-grown man's in sin thou art ; 
Thou yet hast work of murd'rous hue to do. 
And to my manhood's strength must now be true. 
Yes, I will drag him down ! I'm now so low 
I'll not be lower by another blow 
To my integrity : I'd see him sink 
In sadness to deej) desolation's brink ; 
I' d tear his heart as vultures rend their prey. 
And when ' twas cold I'd glad pursue my way 
As thougli I ne'er had heard of sin or crime, 
Or dreamed of aught but good through all lifetime. 



172 FAITH, 

•I'd barter heav'n to drag him down so low 

That humblest ones would scorn his name to 

know ; 
I'd purchase hell to hfrve her in my power, 
And bid her feel its dreadful weight one hour — 
But I must hasten : sister may await 
My readiness ; I would not be too late. 

Scene III. — Leander in Prison Charged with Forgery. 

Leander, opening Ms eyes with a wild stare : 
What mean these walls? these grated windows 

what ? 
This surely is not home ! Where am I, child ; 
And what's the meaning of this dreadful place i 
Ah ! I remember now ! ' Tis like a dream, 
A troubled dream of winter's darkest night, 
My coming here. He did not tell me right. 
What 'twas he meant wlien speaking all so low. 
And wooing me by kind entreaties so, 
I placed my name upon that document. 
He said ' twas one the Government had sent 
For all its noble citizens to sign. 
That some great good might soon result tliere- 

from 
To all the country ; I must sign it first. 
And my fair name would guarantee success. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 173 

I was SO weary : for the hour was late ; 

I knew you would my coming restless wait, 

And only stopped the opening words to scan ; 

And read no more. He v\%s a stranger, too, 

Who brought the paper ; but he said "he was 

Dispatched to me by our Theodoric, 

Who knew my spotless character full well, 

And wished my aid in this his noble plan 

To serve the people's interests" — How could man 

Have dreamed that this was such a wicked 

scheme 
To rob my life of all that makes it dear, 
My honor and integrity ? I would 
Have gladly died such blow as this to shun ; 
For then a heav'nly home had sure been won. 
And earth might still be pleasant to my child, 
Might aid some day to soothe her anguish wild. 
But O ! to have it said I ' ' forged a claim 
Upon the Government"; and then to die 
Before my honor's proven, is a cup 
That angel-heart might wither drinking up. 
Death has no "sting '' to me : but O ! to lose 
The crown I first in youth did gladly choose, 
And wore undimin'd until my hair was gray, 
And then to have it rudely torn away. 
Is living, torturing death ! To think my child, 



174 FAITH, 

My only one, her mother from her gone. 
Should have to bear a sorrow such as this. 
Earth hath no counterpart ! The miser gloats 
O'er golden treasures,*and doth curse the day 
Tliat sees those treasures drift from him away ; 
The statesman grieves when honors deck his 

head, 
And then are trampled ' neath the rabble' s tread ; 
The heart will mourn when its best love is gone ; 
But O ! there is no agony so lone 
As this of mine — save when a maiden finds 
The wretcli has wrought her fall, who wooing 

blinds 
With kindly words as spoke this fiend to me. 
I never craved to leave my daughter wealth, 
Much less to gain it by the deadliest stealth 
That's known to man : ambition nobler far. 
For her, I owned as my bright guiding-star : 
My hope to leave a name so pure and bright 
'Twould cheer her all through life; and when 

death's night 
Came sadly on, by sweet assistance giv'n 
Would point her soul departing unto heav'n. 
And I could bear aught else that earth can bring. 
And bless the donor of that suffering. 
If but this cup had passed from me away. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 175 

I feel that never more will liglit of day 
Glad these dim eyes : for all the mighty world 
Will hush its business now to talk of me, 
And curse my meanness, till I'll long to flee 
To death's embrace to shun my fellows' scorn. 
O ! I could dwell in some lone wilderness 
For ages, and be thankful thus to 'scape 
From glance of mortal vision : I could dive 
Far down in deepest sea, and learn to live 
Without the aid this atmosphere can give, 
And deem it bliss compared to dwelling here 
Beneath such weight of contumely, sneer 
From all wlio're good as now shall follow me : 
Or I could scale some rugged mountain-top 
Where mortal feet have never trod, and hide 
Secure as hunted beast in hidden lair 
Until my heart had throbbed its last pulse there : 
Or I could as proud aeronautic chief 
Cut loose the cord that binds my life to earth, 
And upward in my precious freedom rise 
Until my spirit basked in yon bright skies, 
Where man nor man's device could ever reach. 
Existence is a curse to one like me ! 
All other sorrows of my life now flee 
As phantoms from the side of real one, 
That clutches me as cruel skeleton, 



176 FAITH 



And holds me coupled to a living death. 
There is no joy my heart can ever know ! 
Like Job of old my God's deserted me ; 
Or like that blest One hanging on the tree, 
When tortured nature could endure no more, 
Exclaimed in all His Godhood's agony : 
^'' My God! my God! why hast forsaken mef" 
Had I no child to drink from out this cup, 
I still might die and yield my honor up : 
But earth — O ! earth will never more forgive 
The stain on her, how long so e'er she live ; 
And when I'm crumbling in the silent tomb 
This trouble still will till her life with gloom — 

daughter ! would to God that I had died 
Before you ever nestled at my side, 

Thy father's precious jewel, and his pride. 
FaitJi, lomngly: 

Nay, father ! say not so : I prize you more 
Than e'er in all my life I prized before ; 

1 thought I loved you in my childhood's days, 
Your worth had e'er my girlhood's warmest 

praise, 
Your love has blessed my womanhood, and bade 
Me cheerful wnlk 'neatli sorrow's deepest shade ; 
And now, my dearest father ! I would die. 
If this could save thy spirit's bitter cry. 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 177 

Thou art so true, so gen'rous, fond and good, 
Thou hast through former life so spotless stood, 
I know He'll not desert thee in this hour : 
His Spirit hov'ring still hath precious power 
To cheer thine own — thou now canst say with Job, 
" Yea, though He slay me, Iioill trust Him stllV ; 
This thought thy soul with sweetest joy can iill. 
His strong right arm shall clear a way for thee 
That thou canst walk ; and all the world shall see 
Thy matchless virtue and integrity. 
Leander : 

O, God ! I praise thee for the precious gift 
Of this sweet child ; who can my spirit lift 
From griefs of earth, and point it to the sky. 
Yea ! though the hour of death itself draw nigh, 
And still my honor dear doth bleeding lie — 
"/7Z trust Him — trust Him — ei^en though I 

die!'' 
His presence can illume this prison- wall 
With light as that which erst did gladly fall 
On Peter when the "angel smote his side," 
And led him forth from out the City's gate. 
That he might preach God's Gosj)eI far and wide. 
Yea ! I can say with Job : ''■ I know, I know 
That my Redeemer liveth, and shall stand 
At latter day upon the earth : and though 



178 FAITH, • 

Foul worms destroy this body, yet shall I 
In my own flesh behold the limng Godf'' 

{He rejoices.) 
I praise Thee ! praise Thee ! with my i)rison'd 
breath [death ! 

Who thus canst cheer the darksome vale of 
I praise Thee ! praise Thee ! for the living stream 
Of life Eternal w^liich can brightly gleam 
O'er death's dark Hood, and yet so radiant seem. 
Faith, rejoicing: 

Yea, father ! in an honr like this doth come 
The sweetest solace from the angels' home ; 
As when He X)rayed in dark Gethsemane ; 
As when His spirit left the fatal tree ; 
As when He stood at Bethany, and saw 
The angel-hosts but nearer to him draw 
To cheer His welcome way with myriad wings 
To heav' n above ; His Sj^irit ever brings 
In time of greatest need its sweetest cheer : 
And thus that precious Spirit must be here. 
This seems a palace to my soaring soul ! 
The waves of earth no longer 'round me roll ; 
I almost hear the seraphs as they sing : 
" Hosannas now! forever ! to our King! " 
Whose love can such unearthly comfort bring. 
This prison is a gateway unto heav'n ; 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 179 

The bonds of life seem almost to be riv'ii, 
And we together walking on the shore 
Of that blest stream, so blest forevermore, 
Where mother dwells, and where we yet shall see 
His precious ijresence through Eternity. 

Leander, exulting^ repeats Scripture passages : 
O ! bless the Lord, my soul : and all 
Within me bless His holy name. 
O ! bless the Lord, my soul, forget 
Not all His benefits to thee : 
Forgiving thine iniquities ; 
And healing thy diseases all ; 
Who crowneth thee with loving care. 
And tender mercies sendeth down. 
As East is far removed from West, 
So our transgressions hath He moved. 
As father pitieth children here, 
So He all those who Him do fear. 
From everlasting to the same 
His mercy is for those who fear 
Him ever, and His righteousness 
Unto their children's children lasts 
Of those who keep His covenant. 
And His commandments ne'er forget. 
O ! ye His hosts, and works, all bless 
The Lord : and bless Him, O my soul ! 



180 FAITH, 

Angels sing : 

O the comfort ! O the comfort ! 

Jesus brings the bleeding heart, 
When the soul would gladly welcome 

Chance from earth to quick dex)art : 
With His wondrous, gracious presence 

He can all its nature fill ; 
With His words of heav'nly meaning 

He can all its tempests still. 

O the glory ! O the glory ! 

Of that precious love divine 
Which can make a prison-chamber 

As a regal palace shine : 
Which can bear the soul triumphant 

To the very gates of heav'n, 
While unto its weary clay-house 

Sweetest earthly rest is giv'n. 

O the grandeur ! O the grandeur ! 

Of that one celestial hour, 
When the soul almost unfettered, 

Knows the spirit's highest power ; 
And ascending, quick ascending 

God's own ladder from the earth, 
For one moment reaps fruition 

Of that spirit's noblest worth. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 181 

Scene V<J .—Leander at Home—His Triumphant 

Death. 
Leander : 

There Humphrey! hang his portrait there; 
for I 

Would look into those eyes, and feel that he 

In spirit is communing now with me. 

He never told me of his love ; and yet, 

His look so glorified I'll ne'er forget, 

Wlien last he left, and darling Mary found 

Our precious child was weeping when he'd gone. 

Expression like to that in mortal's eyes 

I ne'er had seen before, have never since ; 

As though some mighty, wondrous, spirit-pow'r 

Were guiding, aiding him in that dark hour. 

But when you told me in the prison-cell 

Of what he said to you, I knew full well [day, 

Their hearts were pledged ; and that some happy 

When I from this sad world am far away. 

Their lives may mingle in a glorious sea 

To flow together towards eternity. 

I would not have it othei-wise ; for he 

Was ever manhood's loftiest type to me ; 

And I would bless them with my dying breath * 

If he were here, and calmly yield to death. 

And I rejoice, O ! how my heart doth sine- 



] 82 FAITH, 

That this reproach is lifted from my life : 
That Faith shall never know the bitter strife, 
To think the world believes her father fills 
A felon's grave. My inmost spirit thrills 
With gratitude to you and Hubert for 
Your services in robbing death of all 
The sting it had for me. And O ! how glad 
Am I this moment that you too are freed 
From prison-life and calumny, and stand 
So firm and fixed in that religion grand 
The same good man directed you to win. 
How true he said 'twas- worth long prison-life 
To find a gem like this— "pearl of great price," 
Which shall forever gild yonr earthly j)atli 
With heav'nly lustre, and but brighter glow 
When called to leave the scenes of life below. 

Humphrey ! it is blest to live or die [nigh. 
When we but feel that heav'n's approaching 

1 would not give one hour of joy like this 

For all earth's kingdoms with their every bliss. 

I can forgive the wicked man who laid 

The scheme which shall commit me to the shade 

Of death, since everj^ thing but tells me now 

Life, life eternal soon will crown my brow — 

You can but symi)atliize in all the joy 

I feel this moment ! — bring my child to me. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 183 

Humphrey : 

Yes, liappy man ! I feel the spirit-power 
That bids thee triumph so in this glad hour : 
His precious teachings led my soul to find 
That bliss for which it gladly earth resigned ; 
I am the trophy of his noble tears 
In prison-cell in manhood's early years ; 
And I rejoice ! my soul too sings with thine 
That God's own glory noAv doth 'round thee shine. 

{^Exlt Humphrey, to call Faith. 
Leander^ alone: 

O ! Thou, All-Father ! how my soul doth bless 
Thee for this hour of j)urest happiness : 
I feel an angel-throng is waiting now 
To bear me where their kindred angels bow 
Before Thy throne forever. O ! my soul, 
What tide of glory o'er thee now doth roll ! 
It lifts me, bears me from the earth away ; 
Nor would I here one moment waiting stay, 
But that I'd bid farewell to her I love 
Before I go Heav'n's highest joys to prove. 

{Faith and Fidelia enter, weeping.) 
Leander embracing Faith : 

My darling child I bid thee now adieu : 
Be ever as thou hast been, firm and true 
Unto thy God ; and He will sure sustain 



184 FAITH, 

Thy aching heart 'neath all its bitter pain. 

Be true to absent lover : never give 

Thy life to one for whom thou canst not live ; 

Remember 'tis a holy, holy vow 

In presence of God' s messengers to bow 

In acquiescence of a wedded love. 

Thou canst not here too very careful prove ; 

For as the Saviour loves His x)recious Church, 

And as that Church must love her Saviour too, 

So wedded lives must faithful be and true 

Give him my blessing ; say I fear no harm 

To thee protected by his manly arm ; 

I know with him to guide and cheer thee on 

Some day with me thou wilt a home have won 

Where we shall part no more. Fidelia, take 

My thanks for all the kindness for her sake 

To me too giv'n — O! cheer my stricken child 

Till he shall come to soothe her sorrow wild ; 

A sister's love to her thou'st freely giv'n, 

Accept my gratitude from gates of heav'n. • 

{He Tem,ains silent awhile^ then says ;) 
There is no death : a shadow passes by 
Eclipsing for awhile the radiant sky ; 
And ere this shadow Hees the Shepherd comes 
To lead some of His flock unto their homes. 
He guideth them the darksome valley through. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 185 

With words of cheer their strength doth oft 

renew, 
Until their feet firm rest upon the rock 
Which shall survive creation's mighty shock 
When earth and all therein shall pass away, 
The '"'' Rock of Ages.'''' on whose loftiest height 
There sliines fore'er Eternity's own light. 
And when the weary pilgrim through death's 

vale 
Hath reached this point he ne'er again can fail : 
He takes one cheering look at Heav'nly Land, 
While Christ and angel-hosts an escort stand — 
Then with a shout that echoes through the sky 
He mounts the ramparts of that home so high, 
And bounds at one grand leap beside the Throne 
That God from all Eternity hath known 
As His abode, while saints and seraphs blend 
Their voices in a song to never end 
While years eternal sweep forever on. 

{He closes Ms eyes awMle, then opens 
them as Hubert enters.) 
To Hubert : 

O Hubert ! will you aid my striclven one 
With care and kindness till your life is done ; 
Wilt pledge me here to never let her be 
Without a friend so long as thou shalt live ; 



186 FAITH, 

That thou wilt ever to my darling give 

A brother's love ? She needs it all to-day — 

Hubert ! will you jiromise? — will you say? 

1 know your truth, your honor, and your care 
For hearts bereft^ — wilt cheer my darling there? 

Hubert, deeply affected : 

Yea ! while I live, my honor pledge I here 
Her highest welfare ever to revere 
As my own sister's : she shall never know, 
While I have strength to turn aside the blow. 
Word, look or deed of harm from mortal foe. 

Leander, exulting : 

Then I am happy : now I willing go 
To realms for which my soul hath panted so. 
Bring on the flaming chariot for ray soul ! 
Such waves of glory o'er it fast now roll, 
I scarce its heav'nly rapture can control. 
Sweet Christmas chimes are pealing o'er the land ; 
But ! my God ! I hear a song more grand 
Than earth hath ever known — Tier voice is there ! 
It bears my waiting spirit quickly where 
The heav'nly minstrels tune their deathless lyres 
Amid the melody of spirit-flres 
That burn and glow with love to God and man. 
Such as in one broad current swiftly ran 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 187 

From His dear side when nature's self was 

thrilled 
By sight sublime that all creation filled 
With awe and wonder, when on fatal tree 
He purchased heav'n for all eternity. 
"Ope wide, ye gates ! " and let my spirit in ! 
' Tis freed from every taint of earthly sin : 
I love the man who doomed me thus to die ; 
I plead with God to hear his bitter cry 
For mercy on his blood-stained soul— I love 
All beings that within creation move ! 
I feel that rapture that the saints enjoy ; 
I long for nye my heart-strings to employ 
In loving Him, the great, the Triune God ! 
I thank Him for the path my feet have trod : 
Each trial here was sent to me in love : 
I bless Him who could ' ' ever present prove 
In time of need" — I see the chariot wheels ! 
My soul a higher glow of rapture feels ! 
It shines — it halts — it opens now for me ; 
A waiting angel-escort, too, I see : 
My sins, for Jesus' sake, are all forgiv'n — 
I leap within— and speed my way to heav'n ! 

Faith, emhracing her dead father : 

O ! I had hoped my heart was all prej)ared 
For this dread blow ; for I have wei^t and prayed 



188 FAITH, 

For strength sustaining in this trying hour — 
But O ! to feel he is forever gone 
Is more than I can bear so doubly lone : 
Creation seems a burying-ground to me, 
Where all my dearest loved ones quickly tlee. 
Fidelia, lomngly : 

" When father, mother, both forsake thee,'''' 
dear! 
" The Lord will take thee up''\- and He is here ! 
' ' I have been young and now I' m old ; yet I 
Have never seen the righteous left forlorn^ 
Nor known His seed deserted begging bread." 
" I will make darkness light to shine for thee : 
And crooked things before thee 11,1 make 

straight.'''' 
" TJte waters deep shall not flow over thee : 
Nor fiery trials utterly consume.'' 
. " I'll dwell among my children evermore. 
And ne'er forsake my people Israel." 
My darling Faith ! when mortal soul once grasps 
The truth sublime that He who made the worlds, 
And holds them all "in hollow of His hand," 
That this same Being is upholding it. 
And steering it amid life's boist'rous waves, 
' Tis as a liglithouse to the mariner [seas : 

When struggling o'er night's dark tempestuous 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 189 

And we may steer our barks by this blest light 

Until -they anchor 'neath the bulwarks bright 

That gird the city of the living God. 

My own j)oor feet deep sorrow's pathway trod 

Until I rested them beneath the shade 

That God in mercv for earth's travelers made, 

Whence, all refreshed, I've started on again 

In peaceful journey towards the heav'nly plain. 

"He is sufficient for thy every need ;" 

Thy bleeding stej)S He'll sweetly, gently lead 

Until thou shalt in fair celestial land 

Thy loved ones meet in one unbroken band. 

Hubert, affectionately : 

Yes, dearest ! God will not desert thee now : 

Thou e'er hast tried to follow Him ; and how 

Can loving Saviour e'er forsake the heart 

As true, unwav'ring to Him as thou art? 

'■'• He will sustain thee ;'"' and we all will give 

Some little comfort to tliee while we live : 

ril send dear Lilian to thee in thy grief, 

To aid Fidelia minist'ring relief. 

S^Exii Hubert. 

Faith, caressing her father again : 

Yes, leave me here alone with my dear dead ; 
I scarce can feel his noble soul hath lied ; 
I long to lay me down beside him near, 



190 FAITH, 

And breath my last lit'epiilse out sweetly here. 

{Exeunt all. 
{Faith alone weeping, and 
kneeling beside him.) 
How dark, my darling- father, were this hour 
Did not the precious "Comforter" now tell 
I ever strove to be a duteous child — 
How sweet the meaning of each word so mild 
Thou e'er hast spoken since I was a, child. 
How blest the mem'ry of thy deathless love ! 
A heav'nly ointment it doth sweetly prove 
To heal my spirit's sufferings — I long 
To Join in that unearthly rapt'rous song 
The angels sung for thee just as the tide 
Of Jordan swejit thy dying couch beside, 
And bore thee from me to a better land — 
I long to join the shining spirit band 
That came an escort for thee, while I rise 
With them, as thou didst, to the op'ning skies. 
How sweetly both my parents ever strove 
To lead me in the path of heav'nly love — 

God ! I thank Thee for their jn-ecious worth ; 
Who pointed out a home beyond this earth. 
And taught me what I owed to them and Thee : 

1 e'er shall thank Thee through eternity ! 
The mem'ry of such sainted souls as they 



OR EARTHLY PAKADISP:. 191 

Shall blesfs nie, <;ui(le nie through each coming 

day 
And I can walk with firmer tread than e'er 
A path which can but lead to those so dear ; 
Their lives a beacon-light shall shine lor me 
Where'er 1 go upon life's stoimy sea ; 
Their refuge shall be mine when death is nigh, 
Their home my haven in yon radiant sky. 

Angels sing : 

We are weeping ! We are weeping ! 

With thee now beside thy dead ; 
We have cheered his happy sjurit 

Till it from thy presence sped : 
We have borne it all triumphant 

To its glorious home above, 
We have seen it greet thy mother's, 

In the realms of deathless love. 

We have heard it raising anthems 

To the God who bore it on, 
Through each earthly tribulation, • 

Till that heav'nly home was won ; 
And we joined the wondrous music 

That seraphic choir loud sung 
When the echo of his coming 

Through the heav'nly portals rung. 



192 FAITH, 

We are weeping ! We are weeping ! 

Sympathizing with thy heart, 
Till with strength renewed thou'rt willing 

On again through life to start ; 
For we know that duties wait thee 

God Himself hath to thee giv'n. 
Ere thy feet shall reach the haven 

Of thy x^arents', home in heav'n. 

Scene V. — Faith'' s Reflections on Theodore' s Portrait. 

Faith alone., looking at Theodore' s portrait : 

How nat'ral that dear face and features all ! 
How like he looked that sweet remember' d day 
He told me what I had not thought, and which 
Has shed such halo since upon m^^ way. 
How calm he spoke : like one who weighed each 

word 
In heav'nly balance, would no accent breathe 
He would not willing meet on that great day, 
When earth and earthly things sh ill pass away : 
His eyes so soft aglow with fondest love, 
His brow so high, his hair uplifted there, 
His slightly-burning cheek so smooth and fair. 
His voice so low, so tender, yet so strong, 
His loving accents flowing warm along. 
Yet with a sadness such as doth belong 



OR EAETHLY PARADISE. 193 

To lonely turtle-dove in sweetest song. 
I did not dream a mortal e'er could wake 
In this fond heart a joy like that it knew 
When I first found his own so warm and true. 
Ah ! little recked I when I wrote those lines, 
The radiance of whose glory ever shines 
Reflected from his life into my own, 
Of half of what I gladly since have known : 
How little dreamed I that his noble heart, 
But waiting, then on duty's path to start, 
Would list with such respect to school-girl's 

word. 
Or by her best endeavors thus be stirred. 
Ah, love ! thou art a mystery to me ! 
I scarcely know what 'twas that he could see 
To prize so much, so much admire in me : 
Although I e'er have tried to faithful be 
In all life's duties : but he is so grand 
In moral worth, and gifted so in mind, 
I ne'er had hoped one like to him to find 
Who'd ever care for me. The memory 
Of love like his is like the breath of flowers 
That comes on evening's wing from vernal bowers; 
Or like the echoed music of some song 
That high in 'courts above must sure belong ; 
Or like our dreams of heav'n when calm we sleep, 



194 FAITH 



And angel-giiards their vigil o'er us keep, 
And bid us know the rustling of their wings 
By all the joys onr slumbering vision brings. 
I loved my parents with a deathless love ; 
My love for them shall e'er a comfort prove 
To me through life — but O ! this love for him 
Makes that beside it seem so faint and dim. 
When I was mourning for my mother gone, 
It cheered with sweetest solace in each tone ; 
And when my father left me for the skies, 
I felt my heart could never more arise 
To life, and strength, and hope had I not known 
That brave, true, manly heart was all my own. 
What's presidential office, what a throne, 
With all the pomp of royalty thereon, 
Comj)ared to such a kingdom as his heart? 
What honor equal to the fate so grand, 
To be belov'd by noblest in the land ? 
Without this love my life were now a waste, 
A barren waste, without one single tree 
Or sweet oasis e'er to gladden me. 
I still might live ; but I would daily pray 
For God to haste and take my soul away. 
With him to love me I can wait and stay 
Here willing, howsoever late the day 
.That brings him to my waiting, loving side, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 195 

And crowns my life by making me his bride. 
I can revere next to my God the man 
Who doth so grandly rise in every plan 
And feeling far above earth's loftiest schemes. 
He more like angel than a mortal seems ; 
He is the angel of my brightest dreams, 
The model of my waking hours, the Joy 
Of every deed in which I life employ ; 
Nor time nor change this pleasure can alloy. 
And then to think when earth shall pass away. 
And all its citizens appear that day 
To reap reward of weal or woe, that he. 
Whom my young heart so joyed its own to be, 
Shall shine, a star through all eternity. 
No earthly honors grand enough for him ; 
His merits would its every off' ring dim ; 
' Tis heav'n alone can place a crown upon 
The brave, true, loftj'' being I have won — 
O! blest possession ! manhood's noblest heart. 
Sufficient kingdom for my life thou art ; 
To reign a queen in realm so bright as this 
Is sure enough of honor and of bliss. 

[She 2)lciys and sings.) 

Thou art not with me ; yet thy love can cheer 
As sweetest balm this sorelv wounded heart, 



196 FAITH, 

That love thou ne'er didst tell to woman dear 
Before, because to love so true thou art. 

Thou art not with me ; yet thy mem'ry brings 
A solace for each sad and earthly woe, 

Like that we know when passing angel brings 
A* song from Paradise to earth below. 

Tliou art not with me ; yet thy spirit tanglit 
The highest science e'er my life liatli known, 

In that blest hour it some reflection cauglit 
Of all the glory beaming in thine own. 

Thou art not with me — yet, O yet ! thou art ; 

Thy spirit-presence ever breathes around. 
As notes from soft jeolian strings will start 

Whene'er the slightest breeze is passing found 

Or as tlie spray from ocean' s tossing wave, 
Will rise to ineet the sunshine every day. 

So tlioughts of thee so faithful and so brave 
Ascending e'er must glad my life alway. 

I may not see that noble, manly face, 

I may not hear that soft, melodious voice, 

But in my heart thou hast a dwelling-place. 
And nestling there canst bid my life rejoice. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 197 

Scene VI. — Theodoric's love for Fidelia. 

Theodoric : 

' Tis very j)leasant thus to be away, 
For few short hours on bright and vernal day, 
From care and business ; all the birds, and trees, 
And tiowers, and e'en the softly whispering 

breeze 
Seem sympathizing with one's gladness. I 
Have long desired to malve this call to thee : 
But public office is a master stern ; 
Its duties must be well and promptly done. 
Or true constituents mourn the faithless one 
They've trusted with their honors, yet who dares 
To test the confidence each voter shares 
When raising him with all their suffrage grand 
To high and noble office in the land. 
I've ever tried to prove my worthiness 
In this respect. The ladies seldom bless 
My pathway : all my days are much the same ; 
They come and go, each with its busy hours 
To those who faithful serve their country while 
A respite's rarely known for culling llowers 
That bud and blossom 'neatli fair woman's smile. 
I felt much complimented when I heard 
That you, and your young friend, Miss Faith, 

esteemed 



198 FAITH, 

So highly all the burning thoughts that stirred 

My heart that night when danger threaten' d nigh 

Our Country's grandest interests ; and I 

But deemed it right to raise a warning cry 

Against the evil, ere it grew so great 

That i^atriots all combined would find too late 

Their best endeavors then to save the State. 

But statesmanship is not my business here ; 

I'd have far sweeter thoughts my spirit cheer 

While nature blooms so fresh and fragrant near. 

To those as old as I there's sure no need 

To long delay their protestations when 

They soon to business cares must haste again : 

You'll hear politely what I have to say 

E'en though it should be told in business way ? 

Fidelia : 

Assuredly : it would require a mind 
More rude than I to ntter word unkind 
To one so highly honored as yourself, 
However much his business forced its way 
To everything that he might chance to say. 

77ieodo7'ic : 

I have not found ambition satisfied 
To bring the joys for which my spirit burns : 
' Tis true my name is honored far and wide, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 199 

But tliinking statesman something each day 

learns ; 
And every hour convinces me the more 
That love hath higher, holier pleasures far 
Than those that follow on behind the car 
Of earthly eminence, that roars and whirs, 
With never ceasing clamor in one's ears. 
Until we long for some sweet, quiet place 
Away from all its noise, some gentle face 
That will be lit with smiles whene'er we come, 
And when we're absent guard our waiting home. 
1 have been thinking of this long and well ; 
And came to-day to say if you will be 
The guardian angel of my home for me, 
That I will strive to be as lirm and true 
In all the duties then I'll owe to you, 
While both shall live, as to my Country. I 
Could not be in your presence ever nigh ; 
For duty still would claim full many an hour; 
Yet I would strive with all my manhood's pow'r 
To make that home a happy one for thee, 
E'en when from out its portals I might be. 
I can not say I ne'er before have loved ; 
Existence sad indeed to me had proved. 
Had I in love's domains as yet ne'er roved. 
In manhood's earliest prime I wooed a girl. 



200 FAITH 



From whose soft locks I now preserve a curl, 

As dear to me as life. She loved me too : 

On such a day as this I proudly drew 

Her arm in mine, and breathed those holy vows 

That crowned my life with bliss. One fleeting 

year 
Was all that I coidd claim her : she was laid 
In youthful bloom beneath the cypress-shade ; 
And years, and years went slowly circling by 
Before my heart e'er ceased its bitter cry 
For her whom angels loved and bore away. 
And even now, though I am old and gray, 
Remembrance of her sweet and sunny face 
A flash of glory on my heart can trace 
That thrills me through and through. You will 

not spurn 
My love because it e'er shall faithful burn 
To other love? You will not prize me less, 
Shouldst thou be mine, because I once did press 
Another to my heart, and her did bless 
With all that heart's best treasures? Thou 

canst see 
How I may cherish flrst love's memory. 
And still be true and faithful unto thee. 
Fideli'a : 
I could not love a man who'd lightly speak 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 201 

Of one for whom lie once i)rofessed fond love ; 
I would be fearful lest my heart should break, 
Because to me he too might faithless prove. 
I would not wed a man and love him less 
Because another's life he once did bless 
With fond aifection such as gilded mine ; 
Fni sure the tendrils of my heart would twine 
More closely 'round him, speaking thus of her. 
Than if he talked of former love with sneer, 
Or jesting word. The heart that's true to one 
May be as true again, when that hath run 
Its course on earth. And yet, I can not be 
The chosen one of life and love for thee. 
Thou surely hast not heard my history : 
The man who won my love, my life, my hand 
Is dwelling now perchance in some far land ; 
Long years have passed since last I saw his form. 
I've battled hard in life's disastrous storm. 
Had I been colder- hearted, not so free 
To yield back love to lovers seeking me, 
Perhaps I had been luckier : but my soul 
Allows no other feeling to control 
Its subtle nature. I can't learn to hate [came, 
E'en those who've wronged me ; and wlien lovers 
In youth's glad morn professing fondest flame. 
My heart would thrill with portion of the same ; 



202 FAITH, 

You thence may know what zeal in love I found 
When by blest marriage- vows my heart was 

bound. 
To lay one's love beneath the cypress-tree, 
And have kind friends to go and mourn with thee 
Beside that mound were sweeter fate by far 
Than not to know, where'er in life you are, 
Where your companion may be. I have wept 
Far bitterer tears, than had my Eric slept 
Within his grave. You can not prize tlie' lieart 
Which in this life hath borne such dreadful part. 
Nor could I love another while he lives : 
My lonely spirit still forever gives 
Its thoughts to him next to my faithful God, 
Who sheds some light on all the path I've trod. 
And says. How know'st thou but some future day 
He still may come, though now so far away. 
Tlieodorio : 

I would not let him dwell within my heart ; 
The faithless one in mine should have no part ; 
I'd tear his mem'ry from its former home. 
And bid another love most welcome come 
To cheer existence with a brighter ray 
Than could be known by loving him alway ? 
You owe no duties to the one who'd jjrove 
Ungrateful thus to your fond spirit's love : 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 203 

Nay ! rather trust the man who once was true ! 

Who with thee now that trust would glad renew, 

And love thee for thy suff'rings ; who would try 

To banish former griefs from memory, 

As years of wedded j)leasure swiftly jmssed. 

Thou mayst be hajjpy yet — at last — at last ; 

When life is all declining thou mayst find 

A soul congenial to thy faithful mind, 

And stay remembrance of thy former woes 

With one who for thee dearest fondness knows. 

Why live but wedded to a skeleton. 

That clanks around thee with its frozen chain. 

And will not let thy heart be glad again % 

If thou wert mine this skeleton would tiee, 

With all its mocking weight of agony, 

And there instead would be a living form 

That glad would shield thee from each earthly 

storm. 
That cold, dead plant should be uprooted, and 
A living fiov^'r would spring forth there, so grand, 
The world would seem another earth to thee ! 
My own deep woe seems nothing now to thine ; 
Let thy fond love around this true heart twine, 
And thou shalt be as happy as of yore. 
When first thy life with love was gilded o'er. 



204 FAITH, 

Fidelia : 

I am not free to love : they bind me still, 
Though shadow of their woe my life doth fill, 
The vQws I pledged to Eric, though he come 
No more while I on earth may have a home. 
I still am his, wherever he may be — 
In distant land, or sailing on the sea ; 
If life is his, I can not now be free. 
To hear thee talk of love as thine would be, 
Is like to seeing fragrant viands spread 
Before one's eyes who would not dare to taste ; 
They only make my life's drear and barren waste 
Seem lonelier still : I thank thee for thy love, 
I know if wedded thou wouldst faithful prove - 

{Much moved.) 
But O ! my God ! I am not free to rove 
To that bright home thy presence so would bless. 
And cheer me in my bitter loneliness. 

Theodoric, earnestly : 

Fidelia ! it is suicide to clasp , 

The chains that crush thee in their cruel grasp. 
I could not love a woman who could prove 
E'er faithless to another husband's love ; 
I'd scorn to wed one who had brought disgrace 
On other's life in happy dwelling-place : 
But thou hast been so faithful and so true 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 205 

' Tis not thy fault he would not likewise do ; 
Thou couldst not mould again that treach'rous 

heart, 
Or thou hadst done it, constant as thou art, 
And he had been here still. Thou couldst not 

make 
A demon e'er a man for woman's sake ; 
That soul of his was never like thine own. 
Thy heart's deep truth to his was never known, 
Or he had never thus deserted thee. 
By all the laws of earth and heav'n thou'rt free ! 
' Tis dread to know that others all may share 
A life which now to thee would seem more fair 
And blest than e'er before ; and yet that thou 
Must all alone 'neath thy great burden bow. 
The world shall never dare to breathe thy name. 
If thou wilt link it with my well-earned fame, 
Except in words of praise. I'd take the life. 
As gallant Jackson had done, of the foe 
Who'd dare to whisper aught against my wife. 
Tlie world, with all its grandeur, still should 

know, 
Thy goodly name was dearer than my life !— 
Which I would risk, in any deadly strife. 
Before the taint of slander e'er should breathe 
Upon the name of one I proudly wreathe 



206 FAITH, 

With all my honors, and then die beside. 

Before anght ill of earth should her betide. 

It is not every man who'd love thee thus : 

Full many hearts would quail before tliey'd make 

Such vow as this for any woman' s sake. 

But I have never learned to gauge my life 

By that of others in this mortal strife ; 

I see the right, and seeing love to do, 

Should friends thereby be many or be few. 

Thou ne'er shouldst wed aught save the noblest 

heart ; 
No other kind could prize thee as thou art, 
Beyond all others in thy loving trust : 
' Twas this that on thy life such sorrow thrust. 
Hadst thou been like to other beings here 
He still might now thy sunny pathway cheer : 
He could not realize thy noble worth, 
He could not rise enough beyond the earth. 
And earthly things, to breathe such atmosphere 
As to thy inmost soul is ever dear. 
Thy highest virtues, in his worldly eyes. 
Were traits of character to scorn, depise ; 
And should he live a thousand years or more, 
He never could attain such moral store 
As e'er to grasp the meaning of thine own : 
' Twas fatal error thou hadst ever known 



OE EAETHY PARADISE. 207 

A being such as he ; — wilt thou not come 
And let me cheer thee in my splendid home '( 
I know that splendors now are naught to thee, 
But this fond heart with all its garnered worth, 
In that bright home should thy true mansion be, 
To shield thee from each threaten 'd harm of 

earth ; 
Thou wouldst not prize me for my splendors' 

sake, [take. 

But for this warm, true heart my name wouldst 
Fidelia^ weeping : 

Through tliese long, lonely, mocking, bitter 

years, 
With all their weight of sorrow and of tears. 
There has been naught to cheer me save the 

thought 
That I was faithful still to heav'n's own laws : 
I still had some sweet comfort e'er, because 
I felt that God and angels loved me still. 
Thy noble love can my fond heart-strings fill 
With sweetest melody that earth may bring : 
And yet that love c )uld ne'er extrac^t the sting 
That would be mine were I to gain such love 
By canceling my claim to heav'n above. 
If he were dead ; and I but knew it now, 
would be free to love, to pledge a vow 



208 FAITH, 

That could but bring me happiness. But He 

Who came on earth, to teach the world to "flee 

The wrath to come," doth bind a wedded heart 

Unto its vows so long as both may live ; 

And gives no true divorce except the grave. 

Theodoric ! thou canst not bid me break 

His laws, before whose presence angels quake ? 

With all thy learning, thou ' It not dare to say 

That thou canst teach a surer, happier way 

To heav'n than Christ Himself had long since 

taught ? 
My soul with deepest gratifude is fraught, 
For love such as few men might hope to give : 
And yet for thee this bleeding heart can't live ; 
It must be true to vows to Eric giv'n. 
Or lose all hope to win yon long-sought heav'n. 
Thou must respect the motive of my heart, 
Rejecting thee all noble as thou art ; 
And still befriend me with a brother's love 
So long as true to God my life doth prove ? 
Theodoric : 

O ! what dread mischief one bad man may do ! 
Thy life despoiled, my own o'ershadow'd too, 
Because he would not be to honor true. 
Yes, I believe thy, Bible ! I believe 
That men who woo, who flatter and deceive. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 209 

And win fond hearts to bid them ever grieve, 
Must sink beneath God's wrath on that dread day 
Wlien He shall gather, bear the "wheat" away. 
And leave the ' ' chaff ' to fires that e'er must burn 
With tianies unquenchable. I now may turn 
To hope again, yet thinking still of thee ; 
But O ! how dark thy own life-path must be ! 
I will. not render greater gloom thine own, 
By proud pretense this love I ne'er have known 
For thy seared life : the world is free to know- 
That I have loved, have tried to win thee so ; 
That thou hast stood by duty like a rock 
That feels fore'er the ocean's boist'rous shock, 
And yet stands firm beside the threaten'd shore, 
To beat back waves encroaching evermore. 
I will assist thy every plan in life. 
If thou wilt let me aid thee in its strife ; 
A love like mine springs not in one short day, 
Nor can it very quickly pass away. 
As mistletoe will crown a dying tree, 
And bid it bright in vernal beauty be. 
So love like mine will bid fond heart-buds bloom. 
When hox)e that called it forth sleeps in the 

tomb. 
' Twill be my pleasure e'e^i' to serve thee here 
With kindly deeds, remembrances most dear ; 



210 FAITH, 

And when this life is o'er to meet again 
Where loving hath no touch of earthly pain. 
Fidelia : 

I thank thee from my inmost soul ; and hope 
With every scene of life thou 'It grandly cope, 
Till all shall see Theodoric' s blest fame 
In well- won honors of a deathless name. 
And now we part : we leave this home to-day ; 
So lonely here we can not longer stay ; 
For Hubert and fair Lilian soon will come 
To bear dear Faith and me to their bright home. 
We surely are most blest : he's her true friend ; 
Now you unto my path kind Heav'n doth send : 
May glory's brightest beams thy pathway twine, 
With this true heart's best prayers for thee and 
thine. [Exit TJieodwic. 

Angels sing: 

O the healing ! O the healing ! 

Jesus brings the broken heart, 
When the bitter drops of anguish 

From its inmost nature start : 
With His words of wondrous kindness 

He can bid that anguish cease ; 
With His voice so soft and tender 

He can sweetly whisper ' ' Peace ' ' ! 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. ^11 

O the beauty ! O the l^eauty ! 

Of a life that clings to God 
' Mid the saddest desolation 

Of affliction's direst rod. 
He who "scourgeth whom He loveth," 

Is a precious "Father" still, 
And the heart so tired and tortured 

With the sweetest joy can fill. 

ACT IV. 

Scene I. — Hubcrf s Love foi' Faith Again. 

Hubert, at home alone : 

Yes, all I ever hoped for now is mine ; 
Except one boon ! To-morrow's dawn shall bring 
"Inaug'ral" morn ; and I shall stand before 
This mighty nation, and the gifted band 
Of foreign ministers as chosen chief 
Of great Republic. O ! how true the words 
She told me, once when pleading for her love, 
"A will but makes a way" for grandest fate 
Of earth ! And yet I feel so sad to-day : 
It seems to me my heart will surely break, 
With all its weight of love for her dear sake. 
I've struggled hard for grandest gift of state. 
And yet, not half so hard as I have tried 
To win that peerless woman's heart of hers. 



212 FAittt, 

I little dreamed how difficult 'twould be 

To see her every day, and yet not love : 

I thought the pledge 1 gave his dying form 

For this dear child, would bless me with the 

pow'r 
To love and cheer her each succeeding hour, 
As brother should. And when we brought her 

here, 
I never knew a day so bright and clear ! 
I drank its rapture with no ling'ring fear 
' Twould ever tell of pain — and then resolved 
To prove to her how true my brother-love 
For one I proudly claimed as sister. How 
My heart responded to that manly vow ! 
But 'tis impossible to know her worth. 
Excelling all the others of the earth. 
And yet refuse my fondest mjfnhood's love. 
I fear to wed a being who might prove 
But choosing me for earthly station, who 
Might not reflect sweet radiance on it too. 
How blest 'twould be to see the wife of him, 
Who highest stands in all America, . 
But setting such example that the world 
Would love to rev'rence her as well as him ; 
One who from fashion's follies all was free, 
And ever striving some sweet good to do. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 213 

How proudly could I point her out to eyes 

With European splendors sated, till 

The empty pomp of royalty would seem 

But mockery, beside simplicity 

Of rule republican — O ! I must see, 

And tell her once again of all this love ! 

For years have past ; and this must surely prove 

How true I am to all I once have said. 

{He calls for Faith, and 
she enters.) 

( To Faith :) 
You know, dear Faith ! to-morrow is the morn 
When my bright day-dream shall be realized : 
When I shall stand before my God and men 
And swear allegiance to my country's laws. 
I told you long ago some woman's path 
Should one day grow resplendent in my fame. 
Should find it hon'rable to bear my name. 
How blest it is to thus be able now 
To verify your youthful lover's vow : 
You must remember all my love for you ! 
It can not be forgotten since it drew 
Such sweet encomiums from your lips that day 
You turned my steps from Paradise away ! 
I am not changed by all my warring strife 
In love for thee, or in best views of life : 



214 FAITH, 

I've tried to be a ''brother"; but I find 
Another hoi)e has never been resigned. 
' Tis this has nerved me in each trying hour, 
' Tis this has partly blessed me with the pow'r 
Of reaching wished-for height of earthly fame — 
And wilt thou not now deign to bear my name ? 
How bright would rise to-morrow morning's sun, 
Were but my dearest dream of life begun ; 
The dream of knowing that some future day 
Such love as thine would gild my radiant way ! 
What double joy would spring up in my heart 
In nobly bearing through my lofty j)art 
Of all to-morrow's scenes, could I but know 
The heart was miae I long have cherished so ! 
How, when I swore allegiance to the land, 
rd think of sweeter i^ledge for thy dear hand 
And life, than Congress e'er could hope to give. 
Were I the Nation's choice fore'er to live ! 
I know that I can marry whom I will 
Of other women — but I love thee still ! 
Such love as mine blooms not in every heart ; 
The love I proffered once is but a part 
Of what I've since experienced. Will you be 
The best belov'd of all the world to me ? 
Wilt take my hand and pledge me here to-day, 
To cheer me with thy love through life alway ? 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 215 

Wilt bid me gladly hope to win the hand 
Of noblest woman in this mighty land I 
Wilt share with me the honors of my life, 
Without its toils— wilt be my dearest wife ? 
List to my song ; and Faith, believe me true, 
While thus my early love I would renew : 

( He -plays and sings. ) 

And can it be my darling one ! 

Thou canst not smile for me, 
When faithfulness had surely won 

All other hearts but thee ? 

Canst prize my presence as a friend, 

Yet wilt not be my love, 
When every moment I but send 

Some prayer for thee above? 

Canst let me linger at thy side, 

When I am loath to go, 
And yet refuse to be the bride 

Of him who loves thee so ? 

A " brother's" love I can not give ; 

I strive — but all in vain — 
As "brother" for my love to live; 

It gives me naught but pain. 



216 FAITH, 

But when I hope to win thy heart 

That pain as quickly tiies, 
And brightest dreams to being start,. 

As tiow'rs 'neath vernal skies. 

I love thee still ! I love thee still ! 

For O ! where'er tliou art, 
Each throbbing life-pulse thou dost lill 

Of this fond, faithful heart. 

{Resuming his stat beside her, 
he says earnestly .•) 

You will not tell me once again to go \ 

You sure can love the one who loves you so ? 

You can not doubt my youth's, my manhood's 

vow d 

And canst thou not respond unto it now ? 

Remember, I have been a faithful friend, 

Such as this life may seldom ever send ; 

And know by this, if thou wilt be mine own, 

What deep devotion to thee will be shown — 

O Faith ! believe me ! trust me ! bless me now 

With more than laurel-wreath for aching brow ; 

My heart is thrilling with its love for thee — 

Thou must consent its chosen one to be ! • 

Faith, earnestly : 

Dear Hubert ! you have been so kind to me. 

It seems ungrateful I could cruel be 



OR EARTHLY PA.RADISE. 217 

Enough, to tell you that I can not love 
You who so cheered my lonely bleeding heart, 
When called from fondest father-love to part ; 
You who have gladden' d with your manhood's 

worth 
The darken' d path I long have trod of earth ; 
You who have taught me what I ne'er had 

known, 
Sweet sister-love for merit all thine own ; 
You whom I prize, shall prize forevermore. 
Of all men, next to darling Theodore : 
And yet I can't so false and faithless prove 
To him, as noAv to give you fondest love. 
E'er since the day you told me lirst of this, 
My heart hath known a high, exalted bliss, 
And comfort in your friendship : I have tried 
To loyal prove in everything beside 
In giving thee the love I once have given 
To dearest one to me beneath yon heav'n. 
I prize you and your sister as the friends 
That Heaven in sweetest mercy sometimes sends 
To those bereft as I : and yet my heart 
Can't learn in thy bright fate to take a part. 
As in another's. I rejoice with thee 
That thou shalt now thy life-dream real see, 
Of place and pride : I hail the happy hour 



218 FAITH, 

That raises thee so high in earthly pow'r, 
And fondly hope that place thou wilt adorn 
With all thy manhood's worth in life's bright 

morn ; 
And that some lovely woman too may share 
Thy throne of honor, and thy fondness there. 
Such woman sure were blest to win a man 
Who never stooped to low, ignoble plan 
To thus arise to this great nation's head, 
One who along his path hath honor shed 
Since tirst he started in the arduous race : 
Such woman too will hold exalted place 
In what's far more, a noble, faithful heart : 
Sure some would gladly welcome such bright part 
In life as this. But O ! my faithful friend ! 
My spirit o'er the waters e'er must send 
Its sweetest homage to the one afar. 
Who follows only Duty's guiding-star. 
With none to cheer his pathway save his God, 
Pursuing path that Christ Himself hath trod. 

( Warmly. ) 
O ! ' tis so grand to love a man like this ! 
No other love could bring me half the bliss 
That this hath done : I see him" in my dreams ; 
And e'er the same heroic one he seems. 
Sometimes he tells me of his precious love, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 219 

And then how blest the fleeting moments i^rove ; 
Sometimes he whispers of his lonely fate, 
And then my love for him doth grow so great 
My heart seems bursting with its precious weight 
Of pure affection ; while his loving smile 
Repays my spirit's fondness all the while. 
Sometimes I see him stand and read the Word 
That bade him go forth with the "Spirit's 

sword ' ' 
To battle for his Maker, and his voice 
Bids every fibre of my frame rejoice. 
Sometimes I see him kneel in distant land 
To beg God's blessings ; then I see him stand 
With hands uplifted o'er some dusky head 
That Spirit-teaching to his side hath led ; 
Then hear the heathen bless him as he goes 
To seek afar his business or repose. 
O, Hubert ! you can never, never know 
How strong 's the tie that binds my spirit so 
To that blest being ! He is scarce a man 
At all ; he's built on more exalted plan 
Than men are wont to be : his very eye 
Is lit with sweet expression from the sky ; 
And when he speaks an angel seems to breatlie 
Around the spot, and brightest visions wreathe. 
He's coming, too ! I've heard the gladsome news ; 



220 FAITH, 

And now my heart could never dare refuse 
To give liim all its homage. He will come 
Erelong to bless my path — thy sunny home — 
With all his lofty manhood's x>i"ecious wortli — 

{Plead inglf/. ) 
O, Hubert ! love the noblest one of earth ! 
For sake of her whose love you now would woo, 

! let him know thy fond affection, too ! 
For 'twas so brave to go forth thus alone, 

And prove the worth my heart's so gladly known ; 
So grand to trust his Makt-r thus and try 
To do His sacred will before he die. 

1 love you as a sister should : Wilt love 
My darling as a brother ; thus still |)rove 
The best of earthly friends to him and me ? 
Remember, it is Faith who pleads with thee. 
Ere thou dost grace the Presidential chair, 
To grant one boon to her ere seated there : 
That thou wilt welcome 'to thy splendid home 
The one she loves, whenever he may come ? 
Thou hast been all so noble heretofore. 
Thou canst be noble still a little more ; 

Canst grace thy triumph with a deed like this ; 
Which to my loving heart can bring such bliss : 
Remember all my lonely, lonely life 
Since tirst he left me, with such sorrow rife 



OR eautiily paradise. 221 

Since both my parents went to yon bright heav'n, 
And sure the i)recious boon I ask is giv'n ? 
Hubert^ tenderly : 

O, Faith, if you had ever, ever been 
Like other women, I would deem it sin 
Unto myself to grant the wish you ask : 
To bid me willing see your spirits bask 
In love mine is denied. And yet, I feel 
A sympathy, for all your sorrows steal 
Across my heart, and know that I will be 
Both kind and true to him who's dear to thee. 
I honor, too, his manhood's lofty wT>rth, 
I think myself, such deeds are not of earth ; 
And when he comes you need not ever fear 
That Hubert's frow^n shall chill his presence here ; 
For I shall wed Honora : she is kind, 
And to mj^ faults and foibles e'er wa^ blind ; 
She's next to thee in lofty spirit mould, 
Nor wealth nor honors e'er her heart controlled ; 
She's noble, too ; will make a loving wife ; 
And she shall be my chosen one through life. 
Her eye will brighten when I tell her this. 
Her heart will quaff a deeper cup of bliss 
Than e'er before, when Hubert tells his love, 
And to her faithful heart I'll faithful prove. 
But come to-morrow : see me when I swear 



222 FAITH, 

Allegiance to duties waiting there [prayer 

So grand and great; and raise one liearftelt 
That Hubert ne'er may soil escutcheon fair, 
By one foul deed to State or human soul. 
So long as this great land he doth control. 
And ask in faith that I may ever be 
True to my God, my country, and to thee ; 
That I may bless that noble woman's path 
With joy such as in life she never hath 
Essayed before ; that in her loving heart 
Mj^ own may find at least some counterpart 
Of all the joy it might have found in thine ; 
That 'round each other both our hearts may 

twine 
With love eternal as the heav'ns above ; 
That each may e'er rejoice in tliat bright love 
As sweeter boon than all of earthly state. 
However grand it may be, or how great ; 
That we may live as noblest ones should live. 
That each some blessing to the world may give 
In kindly deeds — and when the hour shall come. 
To leave this earth to lind a brighter home. 
Faith : 

I will be there : before the sun shall rise 
My heartfelt prayers shall seek the beauteous 

skies 



on EARTHLY PARADISE. '2!53 

For blessings on thy faitlifiil spirit. And 
When all are waiting 'round the scene so grand, 
Know I am praying for thyself and her, 
That heav'n's best love your patiis may ever 

cheer 
With brightest beams of ^^urest happiness, 
And fondest joy your spirits e'er may bless ; 
That earth may shower down its honors vast. 
While love around you brighter beams shall cast, 
And both your hearts may find in each its all 
Until you go unto your Father's call. 

[Ea'/'l HiihcTt 
Faith, plays and sings : 

Dark clouds hav^e lovvt-red all day long, 

And heaviest raindrops poured, 
Still high above the torrent's song 

My happy heart hath soared. 

And why? The day is hast'ning on, 

O ! would that it were here ! 
Wlien he who fond affection won 

Again this heart shall cheer. 

For he is coming o'er the main, 

With all his manly worth. 
And he will soothe me here again, 

The dearest One of earth. 



224 FAITTt, 

Those eyes shall glow as once before 

When of his love he told, 
And higher then my heart shall soar, 

As in the days of old ; 

For I can trust my God and live 
Without fond parents' love, 

If but my faithful one He'll give 
To lead me on above. 

O ! speed ye waves, the coming craft 
That bears him to his home, 

And sweetest sonnets to him waft, 
Ye winds, until he come ; 

Shine bright ye stars, above the way 

He passes o' er the main, 
And gild, thou sun, with brightest ray 

That path each morn again ; 

And shine, thou shore of Native Land, 

A beacon-light to cheer 
The heart of noblest one so grand 

Until he' s safely here : 

Then let this spirit warble forth 

Its sweetest welcome song 
To whom of East, West, South or North 

Its dearest hopes belong. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 225 

Scene ll.~Theodore's Return.— {On board Steamer 
nearmg America, at night.) 

Theodore.^ sings: 

Dark night is stretching now its wings 

Across the wat'ry blue, 
And crested waves as living things 

Are chasing fast from view ; 
While far beyond their boist'rous swell 

I catch a glimi^se of shore, 
A gleam from land I loved so well 

In sunny days of yore. 

And yet that shore were not so dear, 

Though native land it be, 
Did not the thoughts my spirit cheer 

That whisper now of thee : 
Within that home's a mansion bright 

Where jjeerless one doth dwell, 
And all above, around, in sight, 

Of only her doth tell. 

I left thee in my youthful prime. 

And years have passed away ; 
O ! art thou as in olden time, 

On that remembered day ? 



226 FAITH, 

I've kept my heart's best jewels bright 

In thinking oft of thee — 
O ! dost thou hail the thought to night 

I'm coming love to thee? 

Or hast thou learned the bitter task 

To trust another' s love, 
When he who once thy heart did ask 

Can all so faithful prove ? 
I look into the depths beneath 

And think thy love must be 
As bright as ocean's pearly wreath 

That glows within the sea ; 

I upward gaze to stars above, 

And feel the matchless worth 
Of all thy spirit's youthful love 

Is high as these o' er earth ; 
And as the breeze sweeps softly by 

And towards thy home doth flee, 
I murmur prayers to yon bright sky 

My dearest one for thee ! 

No lapse of time can ever tear 
Remembrance from my heart 

Of her I deemed so true and fair. 
Of my own soul a x^art ; 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 227 

For O ! my darling one so dear, 

While far beyond the sea, 
I felt my heart was nestling here, 

Forever here with thee. 

I have not placed thee on the throne 

That God alone should fill, 
Yet ever since thy worth I've known 

The sweetest joy would thrill 
My being at the thoughts of thee, 

Or mention of thy name. 
And whether on the land or sea 

This Joy is all the same. 

As luscious grapes yield brightest wine 

But once unto the press, 
So doth this youthful love of mine 

Matures t manhood bless. 
The vessel slowly nears the shore, 

Fond hope but grows more bright ; 
ril clasp thee soon t > part no more — 

My precious one. Good-night ! 

{He kneels andirrays. ) 

O God! I thank Thee, thank Thee for the 

strength 
That Thou didst give me in the long ago ; 



228 FAITH, 

That by Thy precious Spirit I was led 
To do 'I'hy will while fondly loving so 
The being dearest to this faithful heart 
Of all the world ! I scarce can realize 
How it was possible I then conld go 
Across the deep — But O ! what Joy I know 
This moment basking in my Saviour's smile, 
And soon, ah soon ! to greet my love the while. 
I thank Thee, thank Thee for the i)recious pow'r. 
Vouchsafed me through each dark and trying 

hour. 
To trust Thee still, my Maker and my God ! 
I praise Thee now for discipline's stern rod ; 
For I have learned the highest joy of earth, 
The joy of knowing Christian manhood's worth. 
And I would pray Thee, gracious Father, now 
Renew within my heart the ^irecious vow 
That e'er hath made me true to Thee and her : 
Let its bright radiance on my heart confer 
Still sweetest joy as long as I may live — 
And now unto my darling, Father ! give 
Such spirit as Thou knowest she may need 
To follow path where Duty yet may lead. 
O ! may her loving heart respond to mine 
In all pertaining to blest will of Thine ; 
May we be welded in a heav'nly faith 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 229 

That naught of earth, except the chill of death, 
Can e'er unbind ! May all our wishes prove 
According to Thy holy will and love ! 
Mav we be useful ever here for Thee ; 
And when we go to vast Eternity, 

! take us Saviour ! through Thy deathless love 
To dwell fore'er with Thee in lieav'n above. 

Scene III. — Theodore Visits Faith — Strange Nezvs for 

Fidelia. 

Theodore^ entering and warmly greeting her : 
My darling! don't you. know me '^ Have I grown 

So old and ugly that I am not known? 

Is heathen land reflected in my face ? 

Can I no longer hold the honored place 

In that fond heart you gave me once of yore % 

Must I beliold my darling's face no more? 

Fve come across the stormy waves to see 

My j)recious one — am I not dear to thee % 

Faiths tenderly : 

Yes, Theodore ! the dearest one of earth ! 

Long years have only proven all your worth : 

1 was so happy that I could not speak 

When first I saw your love-lit countenance break 
Ui)on my vision. I have longed to see 
Your form, if possible, more dear to me 



230 t'AITH 



Since those I loved, my parents, both are gone ; 

I've been so weary here, so sad alone. 

Except my dear Fidelia's kindly care, [there : 

And Hubert's, Lilian's friendship blooming 

But all is well since he I love has come 

To gladden life again within my home. 

Theodore : 

Yes, darling ! I have heard of your great cross. 
To me it seemed so sad, your parents' loss ; 
And earliest moment that my heart could find. 
My post of duty there I quick resigned. 
And hasten' d to thee once again to tell 
Of fondest love that I have ^e\)t so well 
Through all these weary, weary, toilsome years, 
With weight of loneliness and frequent tears. 
For heart I prized in days of long ago, 
And e'er have found such joy in loving so. 
O Faith ! could you have been there but one day. 
And realized the cares that blocked my way. 
Your tender heart had but rejoiced to know 
That its blest love could e'er such aid bestow. 
When I was wearied in the arduous strife, 
And almost thought I cared not for my life ; 
Then thoughts of thee would whisper in my 

breast. 
And bring my sadden' d spirit sweetest rest. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 231 

When toiling through the feverish tropic day, 
My heart across the waves would ofttimes stray, 
And then return but laden with love's flowers 
To shed their sweet perfume through all the 

hours. 
When I would strive to do my Maker's will, 
And some blest joy my soul would gladly fill, 
I'd find my heart with rapture quickly thrill 
At thought like this : dear Faith will prize me 
For all my labors on this heathen shore ; [more 
And when I'd sink in weary sleep, I'd see 
Thy smile of welcome now so blessing me ; 
I'd hear thy own dear voice in sweetest tone 
Repeating o'er our converse ere I'd gone ; [song 
And then I'd hear thee breathe some precious 
That in my heart would linger all day long ; 
I'd tell thee of my love again, again, [pain 

And thou wouldst soothe each throb of bitter 
By telling me of precious word that's giv'n 
To cheer our varied path from earth to heav'n. 
O ! I have learned the worth of thy blest love ! 
I prize it next to that of God above ; 
And while I live I trust no carking care 
Shall e'er invade its throne so radiant there 
In this fond heart. How hast thou passed the 

years ? 



232 J^AITH, 

Have they been mocked by any darksome fears 
That I could e'er forget thy youthful love, 
That I could e'er a faithless lover prove '( 
Faith : 

No, never ! 'Mid the darkest storms of life, 
When every scene around with grief was rife. 
The thoughts of thy dear love would come to 

cheer 
As rainbow spans the cloud that erst was drear. 
And rouse me to a sense of precious hope 
That with earth's griefs I still might dare to cope. 
When mother died she mentioned thy blest love. 
Just ere her spirit sought its home above ; 
When father by a treach'rous hand was laid 
Beside her, ere he passed the darksome shade 
Dividing life from death, he spoke of thee 
As one who could but true to honor be. 
And God's own will. But when your portrait 

came, 
For Humphrey was restored to former fame, 
Arid cleared of crime, how blest it was to me 
Thine own dear features ever thus to see ! 
In darkest hours I'd to their presence flee. 
And pray God's blessings there on thee and me ; 
And when I was not sad I loved to gaze 
Upon them till my soul would seem to raise 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 233 

Itself above the earth, and thou and I 

Together thus would seek the radiant sky. 

Theodore : 

Fm surely, surely blest! I've leave to stay 

A year or more, from that far field away ; 

For it has tried my health to dwell so long 

In distant clime where tropic fumes belong. 

But dearest ! you will wed your lover now ? 

Though darker shade has crossed his once fair 
brow, 

Anp deeper thought has settled in his eye. 

Yet you cin ':her.i tlie s i na t'on 1 love descry 

As erst of yore*^ You will not bid me wait 

To link for aye your own unto my fate ; 

You will not give to worldly pomp and show 

In preparations hours I'd cherish so ; 

You will not mock my faithful, loving heart, 

All tender and devoted as thou art. 

Because the world says never wed in haste ; 

You will not bid me weeks and long month 

waste 

When I so wish that joyous day to speed 

That makes us one ; you'll wed your lover now 

Whose spirit yearns to consecrate blest vow 

That makes him ever thine : say, will you, love % 

You know this heart can but most faithful prove. 



^'S^ FAITH, 

Faith : 

I will not mock your noble, manly worth 
By needless lapse of time for wedding mirth ; 
I would not give thy converse for one hour 
For all the pomp in royalty's high pow'r, 
Nor yield the homage of a heart like thine 
One moment for the treasures of a mine ; 
No grand parade could half the radiance throw 
Upon our lives as that we gladly know, 
Because true love hath sweetly gemm'd them so. 
A few short weeks and I will be thine own : 
It surely can't be hasting, when we've known 
This precious love for 3 ears, to lay aside 
The rules that worldly unions ofttimes guide. 
Theodwe : 

I knew you would, my darling ! be as e'er 
The same this waiting heart and life to cheer 
With all that thou couldst do to make it blest. 
One onl}" thought now mars my spirit's rest. 
One thought I dread to speak, and yet must say. 
Before our lives can iningling flow alway : 
And, darling ! I would have a'ou think of it 
Before I bind you to the pledge you've made ; 
And pray our God He' 11 give you strength to see 
In this, as in all else, my love for thee. 
And Him whom I must ever daily serve, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 285 

Nor from' that life-long homage dare to swerve. 
You'll be as other women ; yon will be 
The mother of sweet children : I would see 
Each of those children consecrated voung- 
Unto the Mission-cause; I'd proudly give 
A line of long succession to that land, 
Of ministers such as the Apostles were : 
Their lives — our children's lives — would be as 

ours, 
All to be spent in their Redeemer's cause ; 
Their lives like ours, would find but one true joy, 
That joy, obedience to their Maker's laws. 
I'd have you think of it ; and you shall be. 
If you desire it, from engagement free : 
But should you still decide to marry me, 
I'll love you as no mortal e'er hath loved ; 
I'll press you to my heart with all the zeal 
That angels for their kindred angels feel. 
And prize j^ou as no mortal e'er can prize. 
Next to my God who dwells in yon bright skies. 
I beg your pardon,, love, to speak of this ; 
But rather that than ever there should be 
One thought to mar our future harmony. 
F'aith : 

O Theodore ! I've lived so lonely here, 
I can't relinquish him to me most dear ; 



236 FAITH, 

My woman's heart is true unto its love, 
However hard that love' s great task may prove : 
I can not give you up for any thought, 
This love so long hath been so closely wrought 
With all my hopes and dreams of future bliss, 
I can not yield you up in hour like this : 
When I am thine I must contented be. 
Yea, happy, too, in being led by thee. 
Theodore : 

O Father ! God ! no^\ guide us both aright, 
Until we meet Thee in Thy mansions bright ; 
Thy will alone we'd follow on this earth, 
And X)rove, O God ! Thy Spirit's precious worth. 
I am repaid for all my lonely toil, 
For all my sorrow, all my sad turmoil 
Of every scene in distant heathen land ; 
I realize my mission now more grand 
Than e'er before. Then cheer thee up, my love ! 
I will not ask thee soon from hence to rove 
To that far land : when we've been wedded here. 
And dwelt in our blest home one happy year, 
Or more, thy Theodore will then essay 
To bear thee with him to that land away. 
Our time for weeping's past ! the winter's gone — 
Drear winter of the heart ; and o'er the lawn — 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 237 

Our present lives — there spring fortli vernal 

flowers, 

To cheer us with their fragrance all the hours. 

One. token more of this blest love I'd have 

Thee wear henceforth through life unto the grave ; 

{He hands her a ring with 
Theodore inscribed 
therein.) 

' Tis this : may single word that there appears 

Soothe all thy sorrows, banish all thy fears 

Through life : ' tis " Theodore" ; and may he be 

In truest sense " the Gift of God'''' to thee ; 

For thou hast been so faithful unto me. 

'Tis solemn vow we've pledged this happy day, 

And may its radiance never pass away ; 

In storm, in sunshine, on the sea, the land, 

May we e'er true to all its duties stand, 

While hearts united throb as only one 

Until our mission here is nobly done. 

You spoke of one, " Fidelia " : I have borne 

Strange news for her across the stormy wave. 

Some time ago a dying stranger gave 

Me sad account of all his wicked life ; 

How he'd deserted loving, faithful wife 

In this far land, and then to China gone 

To win vast wealth, enjoy it there alone. 



238 FAITH 



And he succeeded ; for the finest teas 
That e'er were sent across the raging seas, 
He gather'd in that distant Eabtern land, 
And thus amassed a fortune vastly grand. 
But ere he could enjoy one-half its worth 
The summons came for him to leave the earth ; 
He sent for me, had sometimes heard me jjreach, 
And begged the way of life to him I'd teach : 
He told me all — then wept ; and prayed ; and 



sung ; 



His heart with deepest anguish sore was wrung, 
And begged me i)ray for him. He seemed to 

grow 
Some calmer ere he died ; and told me go. 
And beg his wife his cruelty forgive ; 
Said he would gladly now desire to live 
To prove to her that he could still be kind. 
Although before he'd been so harsh and blind. 

{Handing lier ajyuckage of papers.) 
I wrote direi tions that he told me then 
That I must give unto her keeping when 
I reached this land : they show her where to find 
The stores of wealth for which he all resigned 
Of manhood's honor and its highest worth — 
O ! not for all the kingdoms grand of earth 
Would I consent to die as he did there — 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 239 

Yet stranger still ! another heard his prayer 

Who had been waiting for a day more fair 

To start to far America. He came 

Soon afterwards, and told me too his name — 

' Twas "Hugh" — and said he'd loved that 

woman too, 
And fond affection from her heart once drew ; 
But that a fiend had sadden VI all his life, 
Forbidding that he e'er should take a wife, 
By foul pretense he was a nat'ral child ; 
That he was stricken by such anguish wild. 
He vowed he ne'er would see her face again 
Until his- heart was freed from that dread pn in ; 
That he would never drag a woman down 
To wed a man so 'neath the world's cold frown, 
And started forth to find the bitter truth ; 
If false report, renew the love of youth 
So soon as foulest slander was disproved ; 
How all through life this woman he had loved. 
And late had found the clew to his deep woe 
In "Eric's" schemes, who yet could wrong 

her so [me 

When she was sought and won. He came with 
Almost across the howling, surging sea 
That ofttimes boiled along our stormy path 
As though a fiend would clutch us in its wrath. 



240 FAITH 



And toss to pieces in its wielded play. 
His health was broken ; and one stormy day 
He whis^iered suddenly : " I go away ! 
Tell her I' ve loved her dearly all through life, 
And ever hoped to claim her as my wife ; 
Give her my blessing and my fondest love, 
And bid her meet me in the realms above." 
He said no more, but seemed to fall asleep ; 
We buried him beneath the wailing deep, 
And ever and anon as breakers came. 
Before we landed, I would seem to hear 
His voice repeating his ''Fidelia's" name. 
And softly murmuring of " the one so dear." 
He was a noble-hearted man : we found 

{Handing her a locket ) 
His picture in a locket clasped around. 
And I have brought it here to give to her — 
O ! strive, my darling ! that lone heart to cheer ; 
For she has had a sadd'ning, bitter life. 
And ne'er deserved such sorrow's deadly strife. 
Faith : 

She's noble woman too : Theodoric 
Once offered his fond love and honored life 
To her would she consent to be his wife ; 
But firm in strong temi)tation— for her heart 
Has tend'rer grown from all life's bitter part, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 241 

And she would prize a love like that great man's, 

Yet long ago she'd traced out duty's plans 

For future days ; she would not dare to love 

Another while she could not surely prove 

Her husband dead. ' Tis better he is gone ; 

The temjjest will be stilled in heart so long 

That came and went on dread suspense's wing, 

To make her life a sadly with' ring thing. 

God's promises alone were all her stay : 

To these she clung through every darkest day 

With faith like Jacob's when the angel came, 

And wrestled with him ; or like Abraham's 

When placing Isaac on the funeral pile, 

His breaking heart clung to his God the while. 

Celestine now is proud Theodoric' s wife : 

He said he wished above all other things 

To wed a woman whom he knew was good 

In heart, and true in soul ; and deemed 

The Bishop's "heav'nly " daughter sure must be 

Such one as dear Fidelia erst had been 

Before her life was mocked by Eric's sin. 

Theodore : 

And Hubert has been truest friend to thee : 
He's told me all, my precious one ! and said, 
No other man should ever hope to wed 
The one he loved while he was still alive ; 



242 FAITH, 

But that if there was aught he now could do 

To gladden lives of those so fond and true 

As we, that he would ever gladly be 

A friend and brother still to thee and me. 

I'll see dear Doctor Ev'rard ; he must be 

The man i^erforming sacred marriage-rites 

That make us one, my darling ! thee and me : 

His heart will throb with pleasure now to know 

Our lives together hence through time shall How. 

I'll come again to-morrow : you will be 

More ready then with words to welcome me 

Than lirst to-day, when you could scarcely speak 

Because with joy your heart was like to break. 

Until to-morrow only will I go ; 

I can not leave you long I cherish so ; 

( Smiling. ) 
Make haste my darling with that wedding-dress. 
Lest thou shouldst have to soothe too my distress. 

{Exit Theodore. 

Angels sing : 

O ! how joyous ! O ! how joyous ! 

Does the path of duty prove 
To the hearts that trust His promise. 

To the souls that know His love : 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 243 

Long ago in midnight sadness 

He had torn himself away, 
But in brightest morning gladness 

He is well repaid to-day. 

Long ago the tear-drops falling 

From her lonely, weeping eyes, 
Ofttimes dimmed the heavenly radiance 

Of the brightest vernal skies ; 
But how changed is love's dominion. 

How her glances sparkle now. 
How the look of sad dejection 

Flees from off her sunny brow. 

O ! ye have been doubly faithful 

To your spirit's only love, 
And how rich the cup of blessing 

For your faithfulness doth prove- 
Precious Spirit ! gild their pathway 

With the light to angels giv'n, 
Till this earth grows so effulgent 

It shall seem almost a heav'n. 

Scene IN .—Reginald' s Miserable Death. 
Recfhiald : 

Yes, sister ! I am sinking ! I had hoped 
To yet regain my usual health : Fve lost 



244 FAITH, 

The precious moments God vouchsafed me here 

That I might strive to see His face in i)eace, 

In thinking of my many worldly joys [cease 

When dread disease should flee, and I should 

To be an invalid. I was so blind, 

To ne'er behold God's goodness unto me, 

Till now a "flaming sword " it seems to be 

Forbidding every hope to enter heav'n. 

How many thousand benefits were giv'n 

From his all-bounteous hand to win me back 

To iDaths of rectitude and safety : I 

Have dared to scorn them all — and now must die ! 

My life, my wicked life, now sweeps before 

My painful vision — I can hoj^e no more ! 

He gave me all that God Himself could give ; 

A thousand sacred wooings bade me live 

As men should live to meet the judgment day ; 

But led by Satan I have thrown away [doom ; 

Each chance to 'scape the sinner's dreadful 

A life of woe is mine beyond tlie tonib. 

I am Leander's murd'rer! For I knew 

The blow must still the heart so fond and true : 

I gloated in my spirit o'er his fall ; 

A thousand demons to me gladly call, 

And tell me they are waiting now for me 

Where rages e'er a surging, molten sea, 



OR EAETHLY PAEADISE. 245 

And I shall deepest in its vortex be. 
I murdered Rosalind ! She were alive 
Had I but bid one of her heart-buds thrive 
By kindly deed. She did not hope to wed ; 
But still could happy be for life, she said, 
If I would only change my wicked life, 
Become the husband of a Christian wife, 
And strive to enter heav'n : I only laughed 
At joy her soul forgiven then had quaffed, 
And tol 1 her " I would hear no preacher's lies ; 
How could they know of life beyond the skies, 
Oi- that there was a hell ? " She paler grew ; 
I never knew a soul more fond and true, 
Or worthier of the noblest manhood's trust, 
Had I been half as pure as she. "But love," 
I said, "must ever hellish snare but prove" ; 
I cursed the hour I saw her beauteous face, 
And taunted her with all her deep disgrace : 
And then her eyes grew radiant with a glow 
I knew would lead some time to rest below 
The "lilies of the valley." O! I've been 
The deepest-dyed of every wretch in sin ! 
I thought a woman's heart a trifling toy 
That men might break at will for wicked joy ; 
I did not know it e'er could prove so strong 
From fortitude and heav'nly faith within : 



246 FAITH, 

My father always said that "women were 
The weaker vessels"; and I ne'er was taught 
To deem them worthy of a serious thought. 
I see it now ! I would I'd ne'er been born ! 
The treach'rous wiles by which her heart was 

torn, 
Si)rang from same principle that bade me seek 
Leander's ruin, and vengeance on him wreak, 
Because I could not win his peerless child. 
God's Spirit wooed me : but I deemed it wild 
And foolish e'er to list to Spirit-call ; 
And now I'm sinking to that dreadful doom 
Awaiting sinners when they pass the tomb. 

{To Theodore.) 
I called you, Theodore ! because I thought 
Some pity might in Deity be wrought [Power 
By your blest pleadings: but I've dared the 
That only could sustain me in this hour ; 
And now I feel that were all earth to plead, 
God's Spirit grieved would never deign to heed 
That pleading for a wretch as vile as I — 
There is no hope ! In my despair I cry : 
O ! had my sister only once e'er told 
Her brother, true to her, to look, behold 
God's goodness in the universe around, 
My soul, perhaps, salvation might have found. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 247 

No word like this e'er came to me from her ; 
In worldly schemes she would my spirit cheer, 
But never once in all my married life 
Did she desire me to join the Christian strife 
That leads from earth to heav'n. I never knew 
Her breathe a prayer ! I never saw her draw 
Her footsteps nearer any minister, [God, 

When he would plead with streaming eyes for 
And tell of all the path the Saviour trod 
While here on earth : she'd only laugh and say, 
" It might be well to hear of such some day ; 
But she would dance and sing while she was 

young ; 
And when the pall of age was o'er her flung. 
And pleasure could not thrill her heart as now, 
Perhaps before her God she'd learn to bow." 

{To Ophelia.) 

sister ! couldst thou know the woe that springs 
In this doomed soul at thought of all these 

things, 
Thou sure wouldst fly to God and beg Him spare 
Thy life awhile to spend it all in prayer. — 

{Wildly.) 

1 feel the flames of hell caressing me ! 
I see dark spirits lost encompass me ! 

I hear a voice break o'er the flaming sea : 



248 iPAlTB, 

" You scorned in health to hearken unto Me : 
And now Fm deaf to hitter cries from thee " — 
The earth recedes from out my struggling grasp, 
And liends are clutching me with burning clasp ! 
I feel their hissing breath upon my brow — 
I strive to flee — but sink— where am I now ? 

Angels sing : 

O God ! Thy precious Word declares 

Thy Spirit will not strive 
Forever with the wicked hearts 

Where naught of good doth thrive ; 
That while Thou art ''long-suffering," 

The sinner yet may dare 
To cross the line of all Thy grace 

And fin^l perdition there^ 

Christ did not come to bid the earth 

Without some effort rise 
To sense of spirit's purest worth, 

And home beyond the skies : 
He bids us " seek and we may find,'' 

Us ^^ knock, the door to ill ope'' 
To grace hy which "with world, and flesh, 

And devils" we may cope. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 249 

But should we dare to scorn His Word, 

That erst had brought us life, 
Should we essay another path 

To guide us through the strife ; 
That gracious Spirit is withdrawn 

Which once had bid us come, 
And we are left of God forlorn 

Without a Heav'nly Home. 

Scene V. — Lawrence's Love for Fidelia. 

Lawrence^ entering : 

I thought I heard a low and sweet, sad song 
Just as I entered : will j^ou sing for me ? 
' Twould seem so like the olden time to hear 
Your voice again ; I wish to hear the song 
You just were finishing when I came in. 
Fidelia : 

' Tis very sad : I seldom ever sing 
It for myself ; and never for the ears 
Of others, save once, twice, perhaps, for Faith, 
Who seems to like it much. It was composed 
One summer eve when I had late received 
A note of invitation from a friend 
To visit him and wife, and see, he said, 
" How happy they were in their quiet home.'" 
My life's been far too sad for me to go 



250 ■ FAITH, 

On journey such as that ; and thinking o'er 
Their happiness, I penned that little song. 

Lawrence : 

Then play it now for me : I'm sure I can 
Appreciate a song from any one ; [sing. 

And more a sad, sweet strain that you would 

Fidelia plays and sings : 

When Eve was sent from Paradise 

An exile o'er the earth to roam, 
Dost think her heart had borne the sight 

To look upon her former home ? 

' Twas then in mercy "angels stood 

With llaming swords " to guard the way. 

Lest by some chance her luckless steps 
Had heedless turned again that way : 

So I, bereft of joys that once 
An earthly Eden made for me, 

Would fain forego the madd'ning sight 
Thy lovely, happy home to see. 

Then cherish with the fondest love 
The heart that blossoms there for thee ; 

But O ! forbear to ask that I 
Those heav'nly How' rets e'er should see. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 251 

I scent their fragrance from afar, 
I feel their perfume on the air, 

And this shall guide my weary soul 
To clime more bright, and home more fair. 

Lawrence : 

I've listened well to every note of thine, 
And now I beg thee listen well to mine : 

{He plays and sings.) 

I loved in days of long ago, 

When both of us were young, 
When he who prized "Fidelia" so 

Her constant praises sung. 

Then why not now, when both our brows 

Are frosted o'er with snow. 
Renew the tenderness of vows 

That blessed me long ago ? 

They say that hearts can never love 

But once in this sad life ; 
But who can truth of this e'er prove 

That battles in its strife ? 

The earth would be a dreary world, 
If spring but once could come. 

In all its loveliness unfurled 
To bless our waiting home : 



252 FAITH, 

So would existence oft be drear, 

A wintry state indeed, 
If only once fond love could clieer 

Tlie faithful hearts that bleed. 

Then let us pledge those vows again 

That sceptics can' t believe ; 
For love will soothe the heart's deep pain. 

When souls its truth receive. 

( Taking a seat beside her. ) 

I have not sung by chance ; this song was made 
To sing for thee ; though I' d not thought so soon 
To tell thee of my love. But 'tis as well : [too, 
Oft when we've planned our words, and actions, 
An overruling Providence doth come, 
And make it best we otherwise should do. 
Thus your sweet song but opened up the way 
For me to tell what I had come to say 
Before I left. You can not doubt my love ? 
I heard of all your trials ; wept with you, 
Although those faithful tears you never knew ; 
And would not yield my heart to other love 
While life to thee did all so darksome prove. 
I've heard too, lately, news that thou art free : 
Thou wilt not, as Theodoric, banish me 
Because another tie's now binding thee? 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 258 

Thou canst not deem I've acted hasty here, 

When for long years thou e'er hast been so dear? 

I knew yon far too well to hope to win 

The heart I felt would deem it but a sin 

To love another while her husband lived — 

But dearest! long enough ^ — too long you've 

grieved 
O'er what misfortune was, but not your fault. 
You ever have been dear to me through years 
All dimmed with thine, and oft with my own 

tears : 
The highest, sweetest songs I've ever sung 
Were echoed notes that through my bosom rung 
In those old days when we were both so young, 
And I attuned my harp to sing for thee. 
Thou hast not lived in vain ! For thou hast 

stirred 
The warbling cadence of full many a word 
That shall perhai^s endure when I am gone. 
And I ? — My heart has not been all alone : 
For mem'ries oft would come of those blest hours 
Like wafted essence of undying tlowers 
From reminiscence of the olden days, 
When all my gladness was to sing thy praise. 
Thou didst not chide ; but listed to the song, 
However rude its measures flowed along ; 



254 FAITH 



And thus encouraged, I have lived to see 
A j)^ud, true laurel wreath ennobling me. 
Thou hast not lived in vain ! My grateful heart 
Shall ever bless thee u^heresoe'er thou art ! 
The world perhaps had never heard those lays 
Which now it loves to honor and to praise, 
Iladst thou not listed to my boyish songs 
With kindness which to noblest souls belongs ; 
And I, it may be, ne'er had seen thee more, 
How sad so'er thy life were darken d o'er. 
Love is the natural state of hearts, and is 
Essential to them as the laws that bind 
The planet- worlds unto their central sun. 
Some people are like weather-gauges ; when 
They smile we know we are esteemed full well 
Both far and near ; and when they darkly frown 
We know we are not popular just then : 
They have not stamina enough to be 
A friend in weal or woe still true to thee. 
My love is like the arbor- vit^e tree. 
That fresh all wintertime delights to be ; 
Or like magnolia-grandillpra which 
So proudly in thick forest raises up 
Its leaves of evergreen, while fragrant buds 
Perfume both far and near adjacent woods ; 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 255 

Whose leaves when winter comes unchanged still 

stand 
. In fadeless foliage ' midst the forest -land. 
As Sappho strung her sweet melodious lyre 
To one blest love, and breathed her spirit's hre 
Into those notes till Greece revered her name, 
So I, from boyhood to an age of fame, 
In all my songs have loved to tell a flame 
But kindled by thy virtues in my youth, 
And strung for aye for cause of love and truth. 
The mem'ry of those hours has cheered each 

strife. 
The hope to win thee yet has gladden' d life 
' Mid all its struggles ; and I' ve come to-day 
To tell thee of the sweetly cherished sway, 
Unconscious, thou hast wielded o'er my heart 
Through life ; shalt wield till I from earth depart 
To realms above where shines a brighter day. 
And where i)erhaps I'll tune a loftier lay 
In token of my love for God and thee. 
And now, at last, wilt be my darling bride ? 
Of youth my love, of life's bright noon my star, 
I'd have the self-same beams to cheer me far 
i\.down decline of life till I shall sleep 
With thee beside me, where the willows weep, 
And birds and breeze shall sweetly linger too 



256 FAITH 



To tell, when we are gone, of love so true. 
You wall not longer clasp a life thus drear 
When I am waiting for the one so dear, 
As flow'rs but wait the earliest breath of spring 
Their brightest beauties o'er the earth to tling, 
And bid its bloss'niing bosom cease to know 
The howling wintry storms that grieved it so ? 
You will not say your heart can never love. 
Because misfortune did its fondness prove ? 
1 could not prize you half so well did I 
Not know you, for blest love can live or die : 
We yet may see the happiest days of life ; 
Wilt thou not be my own, my faithful wife ? 
Fidelia : 

Perhaps you have not heard of all my life ? 
Fve other hist'ry, too, besides the strife 
Of Eric's sad desertion — Here's a face 

{Shoioing him Hugh' s picture.) 

That tells of one who won a lofty j)lace 
In my young heart in days of long ago: 
I loved him well ; he was so noble, true ; 
And now he sleeps beneath the ocean blue ; 
He died asserting love for only me : 
You might dislike sometimes, perhaps, to see 
This locket in your home ? And yet if I 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 257 

Were dwelling there I could but take it too, 
And love to keej) it ever near my view. 
Lawrence : 

Can I believe that one who faithful proved 
To other love could faithless be to me ? 
You were ' ' Fidelia ' ' in the olden days 
When listing to your youthful lover's praise, 
And well I know thou hast the same fond heart 
As erst before ; for " faithful" still thou art. 
I could not jealous prove of dead man's face 
In whom I once sweet confidence did jilace ; 
His love should be a link between us there. 
For ne'er I knew a friend more true or fair 
Than Hugh : I wept his lonely, bitter fate 
When late I heard of his dread sorrow great — 

{l^miling.) 
What more wilt thou now ask before thou' It say 
That thou wilt be thy Lawrence's alway? 
Fidelia : 

But once again I'll task thy patience here : 
Thou know'stthe friend of earth to me most dear ? 
'Tis Faith I could not go to live with thee 
Unless I too her much-loved form could see : 
We've pledged eternal friendship, and you know 
She'll soon wed Theodore ; some day will go 
With him to China ; and if so, I must 



258 FAITH, 

Fulfill my vow to her of solemn trust : 
You would not go to distant heathen-land 
When honors here are thine so great and grand ? 
Lawrence^ smiling: 

Indeed ! Indeed ! I've loved a woman long, 
Have given her the praise of all my song, 
Have kept my love for her fresh in my heart, 
Wbile in her own a looman hath a part 
Along with me — Ah ! this is poetry, 
E'en more than poet's heart itself can stand 

{Seriously.) 
Yes, dearest ! when they leave their native land, 
If ' tis thy pledge, we'll go along with them : 
Our President, dear Hubert, has a heart 
As warm and true as thine own woman's is ; 
And, if I ask it, he will give to me 
The post of foreign Consul there to be. 

Fidelia : 

You are a noble lover ! How I prize 
The light that sparkles in those radiant eyes ! 
How all the precious, manly, loving truth 
That gemmed your earliest songs in gladsome 
youth ! [snow 

You sure have kejit your heart from winter's 
K now its frost doth sprinkle temples so. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 259 

Lawrence : 

Ah, yes ! my heart I've guarded with fond care, 
Lest thy bright image should escape from there : 
' Tis this has bid my sonnets ever prove 
So redolent of hope, and truth', and love ; 
' Tis this has bid me mountain-tops oft scale. 
And ne'er allowed me speak or think of " fail " ; 
' Tis this has cheered me so in lonely life ; 
I dreamed sweet dreams fore'er of sj)irit wife, 
And tuned mj' harp afresh. to her each day. 
Though she should be long leagues and leagues 
I never once believed that I would die [away. 
Until A^our own loved form was dwelling nio:li ; 
A something seemed to whisper : " Wait ! believe ! 
Her heart thine own did never yet deceive ; 
And sometime, when Grod's will is served thereby. 
Your life with hers the fates will surely tie." 
Some would have called it wildest poet-dream : 
And yet it always did so pleasant seem 
To think that after lapse of weary years, 
When your sad life was surfeited with tears, 
And mine was honored far and near, I'd lay 
Mj' laurels all beside your darken' d way, 
And bid j^our heart rejoice as once of yore, 
When with love's brightest hopes ' twas gilded 
o'er. 



260 FAITH, 

1 woiild not handle your vast property : 

Its income e'en could not belong to me ; 

I never could consent to meddle there : 

My own inheritance is proud and fair, 

That song hath given me ; and I would be 

From cares of money-dealers ever free. 

Our lives will soon be o'er : I mine shall spend 

In proving e'er I'm your most loyal friend, 

And true devoted husband. We will dwell 

In joy and gladness where we've loved so well ; 

And when they go across the stormy main, 

We will renew our vows of love again, 

And speed unto that distant land to find 

Our gladsome lives to holiest joys resigned. 

We'll wed when they do: when their prayers 

arise 
For blessings on them from the sunny skies. 
Our hearts will throb with self -same pleasure too, 
Our love as radiant, tender, fond, and true. 

(^Handing her a ring ) 
Here is a ring, to me of priceless worth. 
Not for its diamonds which most brilliant are. 
And thousands represent ; but for the fact 
A monarch o'er the seas once sent it me. 
He'll not object to know my gladden'd hear 
For his in sweet home-joys oft takes a part — 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 261 

Intrusted to my love his jewels bright : 

He'll not esteem me less ; for he's a man, 

And will remember how fond love began 

In his proud heart, though then iipon a throne ; 

He'll estimate my feelings by his own. 

And dream again of all the rapt'rous bliss 

That's typified in emblem like to this. 

He's nature's noblenuxn as well as king, 

And by degrees o'erruling Heav'n shall bring 

Such monarch as himself to love God's laws, 

So well they will espouse great Freedom's cause 

Some day ; and all the world shall rise from 

tomb 
Of serfdom, as the glad millennial bloom 
Of Freedom cries : Thy earthly Kingdom s come ! 
O ! who can live in this great western world. 
With all its blessings 'round him so unfurled. 
And not believe the oracles of God ? 
We are not told in sacred Book He trod 
This continentr— But O ! its mighty power 
Loomed on the prophet's eye in gifted hour, 
When he foretold to earth stupendous dowei- 
Of weal and woe awaiting the " last days" : 
Its miglity natural wonders join the praise 
Of suns and systems as they wheel around 
His throne, to which the universe is bound 



262 FAITH, 

By spirit- ties more subtle than the law 
That guided Newton's apple ; and which draw 
All things created 'round that Glory-throne, 
While eartl), hell, lieav'n proclaim them all His 

own. 
One song I'll sing thee more to glad thy heart 
With love's own melody before we part : 

{He plays and sings. ) 

Come ! O come with me my darling ! 

Where the water-lilies grow, 
Where the wavelets sweet are rippling 

In their quiet, sparkling How ; 
And I'll bind a wreath of How'rets 

For thy waving, sunny hair 
That shall glow like gleams of morning, 

And which only thou shouldst wear. 

Come ! O come with me my darling ! 

Where the birds are singing now. 
They will warble in their gladness 

Sweetest echoes of our vow ; 
And while we are listing to them 

In their melody and glee, 
They will breathe a bridal sonnet 

Softly there for thee and me. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 263 

Come ! O come with me my darling ! 

Where the stars are shining bright, 
With their gorgeous diamond clusters 

Lighting up the brow of night ; 
And while we are gladly gazing 

Upward through the radiant blue, 
Sweetest dreams of our blest union 

Shall be Hashing on our view. 

Come ! O come with me my darling ! 

Where our own bright home shall be. 
It is waiting with its portal 

Now stretched wide for thee and me ; 
And while we are passing through it 

Angel- forms shall 'round us glide, 
Breathing sweetest benedictions 

For my darling new-made bride. 

[^Exit Lawrence. 
Aiigels sing : 

O ! the joy, the joy of knowing 

All the love the Father sends 
To tlie hearts that do His bidding, 

And are still the dearest friends ; 
Like the sun in arctic regions 

Which dispels the long, drear night, 
How this love gilds all existence 

With its wondrous flood of light. 



264 FAITH, 

O ! the bliss, the bliss of loving 

Hearts that ne'er have been but true, 
Through each varied phase of being 

Keeping love forever new 
With a trust that knows no failing, 

With a zeal that ne'er can die, 
And a fondness that shall blossom 

Still more sweetly in the sky. 

Then forever ! yes, forever ! 

Let that love its blessings throw 
' Round the paths that ne'er can sever 

While they linger here below ; 
And when we shall sweetly bear them 

To congenial sphere above, 
Brighter still shall grow the radiance 

Of that blest unearthly love. 

Scene VI. — The Double Wedding. — (^Theodore and 
Faiths and Lawrence and Fidelia present themselves 
in the Church for the performance oj the mar- 
riage ceremoyiy. — Dr. Evarard officiating.') 

Theodore to Faitli^ who tremhllngly enters the 
vestibule : 
A little courage, love ! 'twill soon be o'er 
And we'll be one, and blest forever more. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 265 

{The two couples take their places in front of the 

minister.) 
Dr. Evararcl : 

Beloved ones, we stand together here 
In sight of God and witnesses, to join 
These men and women in the blest estate 
Of matrimony ; which is hon'rable, 
And instituted by our God Himself 
In time of man's first innocency thus 
Portraying union mystical that binds 
To Christ His Church ; and His blest presence 
Adorned and beautified the marriage-rite 
In Galilee with His first miracle, 
Which is commended by St. Paul to be 
Among all men most honorable ; and 
Is therefore never to be enterj)rised, 
Nor tak'n in hand unthoughtfully, htiteer 
Advisedly, discreetly, reverently. 
And, in the fear of Ood. In which estate 
These persons present come now to be joined. 
If any therefore can show any cause 
Why they may not be joined together here, 
Let him now speak, or else forever hold 
His peace hereafter. 

{Silence for a few moments.) 



266 FAITH, 

( lo the two couples :) 

I require and charge 

You all, as you will answer at the day 

Of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts 

Shall be disclosed, if any of you know 

Aught why together you may not be joined 

In matrimony, you do now confess ; 

For be assured, those who are coupled here 

Together otherwise than as God's Word 

Allows, are not together joined by God, 

Nor can their matrimony lawful be. 

{Silence for afeio iiioments.) 
To Theodore: 

Wilt have this woman for thy wedded wife, 

To live together after God's decree 

In holy state of matrimony \ Wilt 

Thou lone her, comfort, honor her, and keep 

Her e' er in sickness and in health ; and all 

Beside forsaking, keep thee only her. 

So long as both of you shall live f 

Theodore : 

I will. 

To Faith : 

And wilt thou have this man to ever be 
Thy wedded husband, here fore'er to live 
Together after God's own ordinance. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 267 

In lioly state of matrimony 'i Wilt 

Obey Mm e'er in all things reas' noble 

And serve him, love Jilm, honor him and keep 

Him e'er in sickness and in health, and all 

Besides forsaking, keep thee unto him, - 

So long as both of you shall live ? 

Faith: 

I will. 
Theodore, placing a ring on her finge : 

With this I wed thee, and with all my goods 

Of worldly kind I thee endow : in name 

Of Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen. 

( The same ceremony is performed for 
Laiorence and Fidelia. ) 
Dr. Emirard prays : 

Our Father who in heaven art, 

O ! hallowed be Thy name ; 

Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done 

On earth as ' tis in heav'n ; 

Give us this day our daily bread : 

And O ! forgive our debts, 

As debtors we forgive ; into 

Temptation lead us not, 

From evil O ! deliver us ; 

For Thine' s the kingdom, Lord, 

And Thine the pow r, and glory, too, 

Forever, Lord. Amen. 



268 , FAITH, 

O God ! Creator and Preserver, too, 

Of all mankind, and Giver of all grace, 

The Author of eternal life, now send 

Thy blessing on these men and women here, 

Thy serv^ts, whom we bless too in Thy name ; 

As Isaac and Rebecca faithful lived 

Together, so may they perform and keep 

The vows and covenants between them made. 

And e'er remain in perfect love and peace 

Together, living as thy laws direct. 

Through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, Lord. Atnen. 

{Joining Theodore's and FaitJi's rigid hands.) 
Those whom God together joins. 
Let no man asunder put. 
Forasmuch as Theodore 
And as Faith together plight 
Holy wedlock's sacred bonds. 
And have witnessed here the same, 
In the presence of their God 
And this company, have pledged 
To each other lifelong faith. 
And declare the self- same thing 
Joining hands together here, 
I pronounce them husband., ^(/"e, 
In the name of Father, Son, 
And of Holy Ghost. Amen. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 269 

( Tlie same ceremony is performed far Lawrence 

and Fidelia. ) 
He prays for Theodore and Faith : 

And now, O God ! we beg Thee mercies pour 
From Thy exhaustless fullness on these hearts 
That long have loved, and striv'n to do Thy will. 
May he go forth a stronger, better man 
In Thy great vineyard, for her woman's trust ; 
May she the handmaid of the Lord e'er prove 
In aiding him to accomplish much of good. [in 
T/wu knowest them ! And Thou hast tried them 
The furnace of affliction ; now we pray 
Thy gracious presence in their lives alway : 
May earth grow better for their precious faith ; 
May souls be won to Thee as years go by 
To shout Thy praises through Eternity ; 
Until all earth below and heav'n above 
Shall join in one grand hymn of matchless Love. 

For Lawrence and Fidelia : 
And grant, O God! these long dissevered lives 
May be as one the short time which survives 
Between their marriage-service and their graves : 
And when they die, as sunset radiance leaves 
In all the west, O ! may t'.ieir parting be 
As lovely when their spirits go to Thee, 



270 FAITH, 

And leave behind a glow of mellow light 
To lead true hearts to Thine own mansions 
bright. 

He blesses both couples : 

May God tlie Father^ God the Son, 

And God the Holy Ghost, 
Preserve, and bless, and keep you all ; 

The Lord with favor look 
Upon you ; and so fill your hearts 

With benediction, grace. 
Thai you may live together here 

In tit is short life, that in 
The world to come you may have life 

Forever more. Amen. 

{They receive congratulations.) 

Dr. Evarard to Theodore and Faith : 

God bless you both ! This is a happy hour 
To one who loves you well, and e'er desired 
To see you consecrate the noble gifts [hearts 

That lieav'n bestowed on both your heads and 
Entirely to your Great Redeemer's cause. 
Bishop Elmer : 
I can go forth on arduous journej^s now 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 271 

With greater strength since these young people 

pledge 
Their lives to mission-cause. 

Honora to Faith: 

Accept, dear Faith ! 

These bridal flowers : they are my husband's gift, 

As well as mine ; and emblematic are 

Of our pure love for you ; and of your life 

So spotless in its blest integrity. 

Hubert to Theodore and Faith : 

We ever shall feel honored in the thought 
That we have known a pair so fond and true 
Unto each other, and to Duty's call. 
Lilian : 

Yes, brother ! I'm a better woman now 
Than had dear Faith ne'er dwelt beneath our roof; 
From her I learned the follies of my youth. 
From her to love the cause of God and truth — 

{To Faith.) 
My love shall go with thee across the wave, 
Shall bless thee living, oi* within the grave. 

Celestine to Fidelia, Jianding her a bridal 
bouquet : 
Accept our gift : the heart that loved thee once 
Could And no sweeter token of esteem 



272 FAITH, 

For one who taught him, long ago, the right ; 
Wlio blesses now my path with purest light 
Of love reilect^d from thy spirit bright. 
Theodorlc to Fidelia : 

Yea ! I have found the joy to only love 
According to God's will ; shall ever prove, 
By faithfulness unto my own dear wife, 
The lesson that I learned from thy pure life. 
Theodorlc to Lawrence : 

We shall expect a sweeter sonnet now 
Than ever decked with laurel-wreath thy brow : 
If love expectant chanted forth su h lays 
As roused the nation to a poet's praise. 
How high his muse her plumage now must raise. 
Humphrey to Theodore: 

If ever there was mortal man on earth 
Who almost equaled angel in his worth, 
' Tis thou ! May all a gracious God can do 
To bless a soul so faithful and so true 
Be ever thine ! This heart can never tell 
Its debt to him who loved my soul so well ; 

{Heioeeps.) 

But when we meet in yon blest home above 
Perhaps I'll able be to tell my love. 

\^Exeunt all. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 273 

Angels sing as they leave the Church : 
We have left the courts of heav'n 

To be present to-day, 
Where a sweet foretaste is giv'n 

Of a joy that shall alway 
Ripple through the righteous bosoms, 
\ With a never ceasing flow, 

Of the beings who communing 
With tlieir God shall Eden know. 

We have listened to their wooing, 

We have heard them tell their love, 
Like thi^ soft and tender cooing 

Of a sweet, unmated dove. 
Which doth linger in the forest 

With its low and plaintive tone. 
Seeking for iis absent lover 

Till the da J" is almost gone. 

Now at last, at last, we hear them 

Plighting holy marriage- vows. 
While each heart with thrilling fullness 

To its God most humbly bows ; 
And we bring them, on our pinions, 

Essence of that Love divine 
Which beyond this world's dominions 

Ever ' round their hearts shall twine. 



274 FAITH 



Guide and Guard them blest Redeemer 

With thine own especial care, 
May they never cease to praise Thee 

For their lives so fond and fair : 
And when we are bid to take them 

From the bliss they now enjoy, 
May this self-same pure affectfon 

Oft their heav'nly song employ. 

ScKNE VII. — Theodore and Faith at Home. 

Theodore to Faith: 
How blest this hour ! Creation seems to 
breathe 
The sweetest benediction on our lives : 
The hum of birds, the rustle of green leaves, 
The Hash of sunbeams, and the evening light 
Receding westward all attest in glow 
Appreciable to spirit-ken the joy 
Of loving and of being loved ! I think 
Of lonely, dreary years beyond the sea. 
When all my joy was hope of winning thee, 
And wonder that I lived : I could not go 
Back there again without mv other self. 
' Twas faithful, gen'rous, true to never wed 
When noble, gifted lover warmly plead 
To win thy heart : thou wouldst not be the wife 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. S75 

Of President, with splendors 'round thy life, 

But chose a Missionary's love to be. 

Who'd bear thee far across the surging sea. 

I would not be idolater — but O ! 

1 bless the hour when first I learned to know 

The hall' of all thy worth ! I can but prize 

This last, best gift of Grod from out the skies. 

As mountain streams that rise from out the earth, 

And wander onward o'er a thousand miles. 

Or more, to seek the sea, but ne'er return 

To find their source again ; so love to me 

A mighty river bears my spirit on 

Towards boundless ocean of Eternity. 

It Hows along 'mid valleys of sweet bloom, 

While ever and anon high mountain-peak 

Of joy supernal o'er its breast doth break 

With bliss which mortal tongue may never speak ; 

Its music thy loved voice, its rippling fiow 

The accents dear I long have cherished so. 

Its sunshine smiles from out thy sparkling eyes, 

Thy quiet brow its tender evening skies ; ' 

Thy loving tone the soft melodious flow 

Of spirit music which the angels know. 

And which my life sliall henceforth gladden so ; 

Its morn the splendor of the sweet surprise 

That lights and lingers in thy radiant eyes, 



276 FAlTII, 

When with love's sweet caress I call thee mine, 
And with ray hungry arms thy form entwine. 
I know that Adam never could have known 
A joy more pure, more heav'nly than my own 
In Eden, when he clasped his maiden-wife 
Who crowned with bliss his lonely manhood' s life : 
I know the angels could not love him more, 
' Mid all the bloom of Paradise, before 
He fell to sin and earth, than now they love 
The being who can all so faithful prove 
To fond affection as my Faith to me. 
There' s not a breeze that sof tlj^ wanders by 
But brings some precious message from the sky I 
There's not a sound that falls upon my ear 
But is reminder of the form so dear ; 
There' s not a scene in all the earth abroad 
But tells of thee, and lifts my soul to God. 
There' s not a throb of this fond, loving heart 
But longs to clasp thee, faithful as thou art. 
Unto itself in one warm life-embrace. 
And from existence every sorrow chase : 
There's not a breath that greets me from yon 

heav'n 
But to thy lips with gladness could begiv'n, 
As with one never-ending sweet caress 
A ceaseless nectar-draught my soul would bless. 



OR EARTHY PARADISE. 277 

While o'er it all — this precious newborn joy — 

An angel tongue seems ever to employ 

Its song in whisp'ring of the coming day 

When we shall loving, willing haste away 

To that far land where God will surely bless 

Our spirits with the purest happiness 

In foirwing Duty's call. One more embrace 

Before I leave thee in our dwelling-place 

To spend an hour with Lawrence : love will bring 

Me swiftly back upon his waiting wing, 

And then again we will the vows renew 

That bind us e'er through life so fond and true. 

[Bxit Tlieodore. 
Faith, alone : 

It is so strange that he should love me so ! 
That I on earth such heav'nly bliss should know ! 
I, who have waited through long, weary years 
So fraught with sadness and with bitter tears, 
Should see, at last, a day supremely blest 
Wherein my long-tried heart secure may rest. 
To list unto my Theodore's soft tone 
Caressing me and calling me " his own " ; 
To know the rapture of his burning kiss 
Which thrills my heart with strange unearthly 

bliss ; 
To tremble in his arms as frighten d child 



278 FAITH, 

That can not realize a joy so wild 

And new as this unto my maiden-heart ; 

To list his words, and then to quickly start 

As though 'twere wrong to know such wondrous 

love 
As that which tills my heart and bids it move 
Resi)()nsive to his every tender tone ; 
To feel the glow from off his manly cheek 
In warmest rii)ples on my forehead break. 
To clasp his hand and know that he is mine 
Is joy that for the world I'd ne'er resign. 
As father in his noble, thoughtful i)rayer, 
As mother in his ever loving care. 
As best of brothers with liis ready smile, 
As sister sweetly winning all tlie while. 
As fondest lover in his tenderness ; 
As all of tJiese he doth my spirit bless. 
I ne'er shall wxint for fond affection more : 
With heav'n's own light earth now is gilded o'er. 
y0! who in this life have ofttimes need. 
To drink at some blest fount, refreshed to go, 
Again to mingle in the scenes below ; 
If you can find a faithful, loving heart 
Wherein foul demon, Mammon, holds no part. 
Which Glory's self can ne'er entice away 
From strictest path of Duty grand to stray, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 



279 



A soul which linked to yours shall bid you olinib 
To heights of thought and feeling most sublime ; 
Then cast about you ' mongst the forms you know 
For one like him, who can such joy bestow 
Upon your lives, they'll seem as fresh and .new 
As though your breath from Eden's bow'rs you 
drew. 

( Site plays and sings. ) 

O ! would you bring an off' ring 

For trusting woman's heart 
More regal in its splendor 

Than gems of Eastern mart ; 
Wouldst till her spirit's measure 

With bliss like that above?— 
Give her the priceless treasure 

Of a faithful husband's love. 

O ! would you waft a sonnet 

Unto a woman's ear 
That e'er would linger on it 

With melody most dear, 
Through every scene of sadness 

A blessing e'er to prove ? — 
Give her the magic gladness 

Of a faithful husband's love. 



280 FAITH, 

O ! would you breathe a message 

Within that woman's soul, 
That e'er can wake blest echoes 

Beyond the world's control ; 
That with its sweet caressing 

Will lead her on above 1 — 
Give her the spirit-blessing 

Of a faithful husband's love. 

Scene VIII. — Lawre?ice and Fidelia at Home. 

Laiorence, smiling : 

" You do not think me old at all," you say, 
" Because I sung so sweetly yesterday 
Of youth and love?" No! 1 shall ne'er be old, 
Unless, perchance, my heart should grow more 
As benedict than when a bachelor ; [cold 

And this, I know, is sure impossible, 
When I e'er kept it warm for thee afar ; 
It now must burn and glow as gladdened star 
When beams from its bright central sun soft fall, 
And wake to vernal bloom its flow' rets all. 
Do you remember, once when we \\eie yonng, 
I walked beside you one bright summer's eve 
When sun was setting, and I stayed my steps 
To make the moments longer ; how you sj)oke 
Of coming night if we delayed much more, 



OR EARTHLY PA.RADISE. 281 

And how I sighed and dared to say no more ; 
Yet lingered still % I'll ne'er forget that hour ! 
'Twas with the utmost strength of boyhood's 

pow'r 
And will I then controlled my pleading heart, 
Until I homeward should again depart: 
I longed to tell you all ! My soul was full 
To overflowing with its weight of love : 
And yet I feared to test your friendship ; for 
I knew if then rejected Fd withdraw 
Forever from you ; and I could not bring 
My heart to risk such bitter suffering 
As that had been. I felt, to linger near 
Sometimes within thy presence all so dear, 
Were bliss enough for me ; and dared to hope 
No other man would with my wishes cope. 
Until kind fortune deigned to show a way 
For me to win you mine, and love alway. 
But Hugh and Eric came ; and then I knew 
There was no chance for me. The song you drew 
Forth yesterday is echo of the strain 
That swept my heart that eve, and comes again 
Whene'er I turn to that sweet glowing page 
Of mem'ry's sacred volume. But ' tis well : 
My faitli is now rewarded ! I've the j^rize 
For which I loved to soar towards sunny skies. 



282 FAITH, 

And downward waft a song to some kind ear 
Who'd drink its music for the one so dear : 
I'm recompensed for all my lonely life ; 
My first, my only love is now my wife. 
" You wish to hear that song again ? " O Love ! 
How sweet a master doth thy lordshij^ prove ; 
We are not young ; and yet our spirits bound 
With self-same joy as when thou first wast found. 

{He plays and sincfs. ) 

He never told her of his love, 

Although his heart would beat, 
Whene'er her footsteps wander'd by, 

With throb so loud and fleet ; 
' Twas bliss enough for him to know 

That she was passing near, 
'Twas joy supreme for her lov'd t(mes 

To greet his list'ning ear. 

' Twas like the dawn of simngtime hours 

To gaze into her eye. 
Her cheek was brighter than the How'rs 

That bloomed in beauty nigh ; 
Her voice seemed sweeter than the bird's 

Unto his loving heart, 
And soon within his inmost soul 

Her image found a part. 



OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 283 

He never told her of his love, 

• Yet ever hoped some day 

His life would brighter grow beneath 

Her si^irit's genial ray : 
But while he tarried thus, there came 

A lover fond and new 
Who won her heart with tender liame, 

And to his dwelling drew. 

He never told her of his love, 

x4Lnd yet in after years 
He found its gushing tenderness 

In floods of bitter tears ; 
And then he knew the secret deep 

Of all his being when 
He lingered near, but could not tell 

His homage to her then. 

There came an hour he saw again 

The form he loved of yore. 
And then his heart was free of pain, 

With joy was brimming o'er — 
He told hnr all : she heard his words ; 

And then they pledged that love 
That gilds his evening sky with glow 

Like that of heav'n above. 



284 FAITH, 

And shall I sing another song for tliee ? 
It may not seem so full of melody 
As other was ; and yet I love to tune 
November s harp as though it were but June, 
And have thee think that ''Paradise hath come'' 
Again to bless thee in an earthly home ; 
For love can clothe my locks so thin and gray 
With self-same hue they were in life's blest May. 

(//e plays and sings. ) 

When f(md life is fast receding 

Towards the sunset shore of death. 
And the spirit still is pleading 

For the boon of love's sweet breath ; 
When the Summer all is ended, 

And the Winter draweth nigh, 
Shall a vernal hue be blended 

With a cold autumnal sky ? 

Wlien the birds are all preparing 

For their southward yearly flight. 
And the leaves a glow are sharing, 

Telling AVinter's coming blight 
Shall the sun forget his mission 

Towards the cold solstitial heav'n, 
And the heart reap sweet fruition 

That to Spring alone is giv'n^ 



on EARTHLY PARADISE. gSH 

Yea, it may be ! When October 

Fast is fleeing from the earth, 
And November all so sober 

Checks the ling' ring summer's mirth ; 
Nature pauses for reflection, 

Ere the Winter's pall, she'll bring, 
Calms her 'own deep sad dejection 

With the balmy breath of Spring. 

Who hath wander'd in the valley 

In this holy Autumn time, 
And not felt his spirit rally 

Unto nature's vernal chime? 
Who hath gazed on all the splendor 

" Indian-summer" e'er must l)ring, 
And forgot to sweetly render 

Homage for another spring ? 

Thus would I, ere life be ended. 

Tune my harj) to sing thy love. 
Which within my heart hath blended 

Joys like those of heav'n above ; 
Thus while vernal air is breathing: 

Sweetly 'round my path below, 
Would I song for thee be wreathing 

Ere shall come the Winter's snow. 



'2SQ FAITH, 

Fidelia : 

O ! could I tell you half the love I bear 
For one who c:in such lofty being share 
As only angels know, thy heart would beat 
Like music to my own's blest rh^'thm so sweet 
That comes with words of thine! My lonely life 
Ere heav'n vouchsafed the doubly precious boon 
Of being such a noble songster's wife, 
Appears before me like some blac^ken'd cloud 
That earth and time with somber hue can shroud 
Until they seem a vast funereal pile, 
And heav'n itself can only weep the while. 
But ah ! how changed since I have known thy 

love ! 
In one blest moment all that darkness tied. 
And brightest sunshine o'er my path was shed. 
' Twas like magician's wand had changed the sky 
Of bleak Deci'Uiber to an April one, 
While birds and liow'rs and breeze came wafting 

by 

Their praises for the boon I late had won ; 

Or like the glow that lights the mountain-peak 

Erst wrapped in darkness and in chilling snow, 

Till sunrise bids each icicle bespeak 

The glory of the Godhead beaming so ; 

Or like the How of some vast, unknown stream 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 287 

That through the thickest jungles finds its way, 
Till in one moment all its waves but seem 
Rejoicing as they catch the ocean's spray, 
And mingle with its fullness there alwny. 
1 heard thy songs in those dark, sadden' d days. 
As night will hearken to thn whippoorwill, 
And half forget if knows not solar rnys 
In all the music of his gushing tlirill ; 
Or as the flowers when drooping 'neath tlie rnin 
But sparkle if the sun shall shine again, 
So I, when weeping in my bitter woe, 
Some joy would find in listing to the flow- 
That bore thy spirit on forever so. 
The love of one like thee in oldest age 
Is more than youth-time bloom of other lives, 
It can the tend' rest thoughts and hopes engage 
So long as mortal life itself survives : 
Yea ! when we sleep within the silent torn!) 
Methinks this love can never wholly die, 
' Twill be transported but to brighter bloom 
In sphere congenial far beyond the sky. 
I can not hope to sing as thou dost sing ; 
And yet T woidd my humble tribute bring 
For one so gifted, yet so fond and true : 



288 FAITH, 

{SJit plays and sings.) 
I saw a storm- tossed vessel once 

Upon a darken' d sea, 
And winds and waves were lashing it 

In direst mockery ; 
And many a craft was sailing near, 

And many a look was cast 
Towards that poor weather-beaten tiling 

That bowed before the blast. 

And yet no help from mortal hand 

Towards struggling ship dared go, 
It might perhaps reach far-off land, 

But ne'er again could know 
The joy of walking o'er the waves 

As other vessels do : 
And darker and yet darker still 

The storm around it g-rew. 



a' 



I saw a noble sailor then, 

A chart within his hand. 
And heav'nly light within his eye. 

Launch forth from distant land 
To reach that struggling vessel's helm 

Before all hope was gone. 
I saw him draw her into port 

When broke the early dawn. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 289 

That vessel O ! my husband, dear I 

Was thy Fidelia's heart, 
That 'mid the storm and breakers there 

Had almost lost its chart ; 
That sailor is my Lawrence brave 

Who stemmed the raging sea 
Of worldly scorn and prejudice 

To give his love to me. 

As long as earth shall gladden 'neath 

The gleam of solar hours. 
As long as spring shall blossom with 

Bright sunlight and with llow'rs. 
So long my grateful spirit shall 

Attune its hymns to thee, 
Who rescued thy Fidelia from 

Such sorrow's surging sea. 

Laiorence : 

One other song I'll sing ; and it shall flow 
Just as my spirit now may bid it go ; 
For I believe the sweet impromptu song 
Is that to which the dearest joys belong. 

{He plays and sings.) 

I saw a uoble vessel sail 
From out a royal port, 



290 FAITH, 

I saw her streaming banner fair 
With passing zephyrs si)ort ; 

And as she sped so swift away 
Towards far-off snnny sea 

All who beheld her said, could aught 
More j)roud or gallant be 'i 

I saw that vessel reach the waves 

Of ocean's billowy breast, 
While he who stood to guide her way 

Grew careless with the rest : 
A storm came on : his eve had failed 

To note its gathering there, 
And all upon that vessel paled 

With signs of deeji despair. 

Afar upon the ocean's breast 

Another steamer lay, 
Whose helmsman marked that beauteous 
craft 

When sailing out that day : 
He knew her rigging all was right. 

Her make was faultless, too, 
And swift across the raging sea 

His vessel nearer drew. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 291 

The struggling ship was well-nigh lost, 

He'd almost been too late, 
Her helmsman had the lil'e-boat seized, 

And left her to her fate : 
When O ! with Heav'n's own helping hand, 

And heart all tilled with love, 
He lashed that steamer to his own, 

Prom out the storm to rove : 

The waves but scoffed to see his faith, 

And thought to wreck him, too— 
But Heav'n vouchsafed to hear the prayers 

Of hearts so fond and true ; 
And now with softest summer gales 

They're sailing side by side, 
Secure from all the bitter woes 

That ocean's depths betide. 

He knows that vessel is the best 

That ever stemmed the sea. 
He knows with perfect build she's blest. 

And Heav'n's own symmetry : 
And while the world talks of the storm 

That almost wrecked her there. 
He thanks his God for wind and wave 

That brought him gift so fair. 

^Exeunt both. 



292 FAITH, 

ACT V. 

Scene I. — Little Theodore's Welcome. 

TJieodore : 

O Faith ! I love this child as my own soul ; 
And love you too, far more than e'er before, 
Because you are the mother of my child. 
As Christ loves more His church whose members 
But martyrs, if it needs be, thus to prove [are 
Their love, fidelity to Him ; so will 
A thinking man esteem the woman who 
For his dear sake can such dread suff'rings bear. 
You understand now better than you did 
The meaning grand of all he nobly said 
That beaut'ous day I felt my heart was yours. 

! ' tis exalted privilege to be 

The mother of a Christian's children, Faith ; 
For she has precious promises, to cheer. 
The worldling ne'er can claim ; while gratitude 
Of faithful husband can assuage her woes. 

1 ne'er before could realize the half 

Of beauty in those Scripture passages [babes ; 
Which tell of Christ's sweet love for earthly 
But now they're clear as clearest noonday sun — 
All ! surely life, true life had just begun 
When I essayed to win thee and to go 



OU EARTHLY PARADISE. 293 

To mission-field. ' Twill be so sweet to bear 
Our darling with us when we go forth there, 
To stay perhaps until our lives are o'er. 
He'll grow up dear "celestial " in a home 
Prom which perchance he ne'er may wish to roam ; 
And tliev will list to him with keener zest 
Because their land with his sweet childhood's 

blest : 
They will not steel their hearts with prejudice 
' Gainst him as 'gainst a stranger ; they will see 
His zeal for God for their own good must be, 
And he can lead them with a gentle hand 
To aid him teach the millions of their land 
The way of blest salvation — O ! ' tis grand 
Inaugurating plan like this ! My heart 
O'erliows with love for its high destined part 
In this design — My Saviour, O ! I praise 
The love that hallows with unearthly rays 
The blest fruition of my latter days. 
What shall we call him, dearest? He's so fair. 
And looks so sweet and cunning nestling there, 
We must select some name with meaning high 
To give this little wand'rer from the sky. 
Faith : [name — 

Let's name him Theodore — j^our own dear 
His call in life you know must be the same 



294 t'AtTit, 

As yours ; and he will surely love to be 
The bearer of the name ennobling thee ; 
No other truly e'er conld signify 
A meaning grander, one more sweet and high 
Than "Theodore^'—onr little "gift of God" ; 
Let's hope when life is o'er he will have trod 
The same bright path thy duteous footsteps press, 
A pnth that God and angels love to bless. 

{He takes ilie habe hi his arms and sings.) 

A father welcomes darling boy 

With fond paternal care, 
A mother's heart throbs with new joy 

For stranger nestling there ; 
1 gaze within his peering eyes 

That look so strange around. 
As though he missed his native skies 

On this low earthly ground. 

I lift his tiny, rosy hand, . 

And clasp it in my own. 
And feel a thrill from heav'nly land 

I ne'er before have kn .wn ; 
I press his little velvet cheek 

With proudest earthly kiss, [speak 

AVhile qui V 'ring heart-strings quick be- 

A strange and rapt'rous bliss. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 295 

O Father ! bless this precious child 

With Heav'n's own gifts divine, 
Upon whose birth the angels smiled, 

And longed to seal him Thine : 
May his whole life here dwelling, be 

A hymn of sweetest love, 
Whose notes, when comes eternity, 

Shall join the song above. 

Angels sing : 

We have searched among the treasures 

That are sparkling near God's throne, 
We have numbered all the blessings 

That unto His Grace are known ; 
And from out the Godhead's fullness 

There's no purer earthly joy 
Than the Father gives the creature 

In the first-born baby-boy. 

' Tis a joy that He hath nurtured 

In His own benignant breast. 
When the Son, Incarnate Being, 

Earthly footsteps sweetly pressed ; 
And He prizeth all the gladness 

Of that faithful father's heart, 
Who rejoiceth thus to aid Him 

In so grand and good a part. 



296 FAITH, 

O ! may they fore'er remember 

That sweet child is only giv'n 
That themselves and he may enter 

Sometime in the courts of Heav'n : 
Brightest jewel He hath loaned them 

From the treasures of His Love ; 
Grant, O God ! they keep it Imrnished 

Till it shines again above. 

Scene II. — Little Theodore's Baptism. 

{Ttieodore with little Theodore., and Faith tale 
their places in front of the minister in the 
church., Dr. Evarard officiating.) 

Dr. Evarard: 

Well beloved, forasmuch 

As all men conceived and born 

Are in sin, and that our blest 

Saviour saith Except a man 

Shall be born of water, and 

Of the Spirit, he can not 

Into God's blest kingdom come : 

I beseech you that you call 

Now on God the Father, through 

Jesus CI iris t, that of His grace 

He will grant unto this child 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 997 

That by nature he hath not : 
That liaptized he may be with 
Water and the Holy Ghost, 
And accepted into Chrisfs 
Holy Chnrch, and now be made 
Lively' member of the same. 

{He prays.) 
Ahnighty God, we now beseech Thee for 
Thy mercies infinite, that Thou wilt look 
Upon this child: wash him and sanctify 
Him with the Holy Ghost ; that he may be 
Delivered from Thy wrath, received into 
The ark of Christ's great Chnrch, and being- 
made 
Secure in faith, in hope, in love, may pass 
The waves of this sad world, that finally 
He'll come to land of everlasting life, 
To reign with Thee, world without end, in joj^, 
Through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, Lord. Amen. 

O Gracious God ! grant now that in this cliild 
Old Adam may be buried so, that the 
New man may be raised up in him. Amen. 

Grant that all carnal thoughts may die in him. 
And that all things which may belong unto 
The Spirit live and grow in him. Amen. 



298 FAITH, 

Grant lie may have the gracious pow'r and 

strength 
To have the victory, and triumph 'gainst 
The devil, world, and flesh fore'er. Amen. 

Grant whosoe'er is dedicated h\ 

Our ministry and office unto Thee 

May be endued with heav'nly virtues, and 

Fore'er rewarded through Thy grace, O God ! 

Our blessed. Lord, who livest, and who too 

Dost govern all, world without end. Amen. 

Almightj'', ever-living God, whose Son, 

For blest forgiveness of our sins, did shed 

From precious side lioth water, blood, and gave 

Commandment to disciples that they go 

Teach nations all, baptizing them in name 

Of Father, Son and Holy Ghost : regard, 

We beg Thee, prayers of congregation here ; 

And grant, this child, to be baptized now may 

Receive the fullness of Thy grace, and e'er 

Remain in number of Thy faithful and 

Thy chosen children through the bounteous 

grace 
Of Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord. Amen. 

{The congregatkyn stand an dhe reads.) 
They brought young (children unto Christ, that He 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 299 

Should teach tliem. And his followers rebiilved 
Those bringing them ; but when Christ saw it, He 
Was much displeased, and unto those around 
Said, Suffer little ones to come to me, 
Forhid them not, of such OocT s kingdom is, 
Whoe^ er of all the earth shall not receive 
God'' s kingdom as a little child, shall not 
E'er come tJierein. And then He took them up 
Within His loving arms, and placed His hands 
Upon their little forms, and blessed them tliere. 

( To Theodore and Faith.) 
In bringing this dear child into the Church 
Of Christ by baptism, ' lis your duty to 
Teach him renounce the deml, all his wo7'ks. 
Vain pomp and glory of the toorld: with all 
Tlie covetous wishes of the same, and all 
Desires of flesh, that he may not he led. 
By them, nor follow them: teach him heliem 
All articles of Christian faith, and to 
Ohediently keep God's holy will, 
Coinmandments all the days that he shall live. 

{Taking the hahe in his ar7ns.) 
Now name this child. 
Theodore : 
We call him Theodore. 



1^00 FAITit, 

{Pouring water upon him.) 
Dear Theodore ! baptize I thee, in name 
Of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. 

( 7Vie conqregaiion Jcneel in prayer. ) 
He prays : 
O God ! may life of little Theodore 
With brightest love for Thee be gilded o'er ; 
May he be reared in all Tliy blest commands 
To teach Thy truth in distant heathen lands, 
While Spirit of the blessed Saviour e'er 
His righteous soul and life shall deign to cheer. 
Wilt ])e with those who guide his childhood's 

hours. 
And bless them e'er with highest spirit-i)owers 
To lead him sweetly in the blessed path 
Which in both worlds the highest honor hath. 
May he grow up as Samuel, from a child 
Devoted to thy service ! May he be 
Prom every earthly crime forever free ; 
May grace anoint his tender, youthful heart. 
Preparatory to exalted part 
Thou hast perhaps designed that he should iill— 
Forbid O God ! that we should place our will 
As Thine : and yet if ' tis Thy blest design 
That he as Missionary preach Thy Word, 
O ! give him blessing of the " Spirit's sword,'' 



OK EARTHY PARADISE. 301 

fhe "helmet of sulvatioii," and the '"shield 
Of faitli'' to quench the darts of wicked one : 
May " trutli liis k)ins well gird," and "breastplate 
Thy righteousness " his sure defense e'er be : [of 
And ere he goes forth in this weary world, 
May his young feet be shod full early with 
The " prei>aration of Thy Gospel peace," 
To tell Thy Word, and bid earth's sorrows cease. 
As ocean's waves forever tossing grand 
Are bearing laden vessels to far land. 
So may his efforts in Thy righteous cause, 
E'er aiding men to keep Thy holy laws, 
Be means of sure transitioTi for their souls 
Beyond where earthly circumstance controls. 
To that blest haven in yon radiant sky 
VViiere lieav'n begins, and joys shall never die ; 
Where we shall learn more perfectly Thy will. 
And love far more to do Thy service still, 
Than e'er on earth — while ceaseless ages roll 
To bless with endless bliss each hapjiy soul. 
And all Creation joins the wondrous lay 
To praise the Triune Godhead there alway. 

Our Father who in heav'n art, 

O hallowed be Thy name ; 

Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done 
On earth as ' tis in heav'n ; 



302 FAITH 



Give us this day our daily bread ; 

And O, forgive our debts, 

As debtors we forgive ; into 

Temptation lead us not, 

From evil, O ! deliver us ; 

For Thine's the kingdom. Lord, 

And Thine the pow'r and glory too 

Forever, Lord. Amen. 

{Exeimt all. 
Angels sing as they disperse ; 

Ye have made a holy comjiact 

In the presence of your God, 
That as far as ye are able 

Duty's path shall e'er he trod 
By til at precious infanVs footsteps 

As he journeys on heloio ; 
While bright beings all celestial 

Joy this sacred vow to know. 

Ever guard him ! Ever guide him, 

As ye' 11 wish that ye had done 
When the sands of life are wasted. 

And its journey brief is run ; 
For a time is surely coming 

When earth's dwellers all shall stand 
In the presence of their Saviour 

For a reck' ning great and grand. 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 303 

Who shall bear those awful summons, 

When the graves shall yield their dead, 
With a quiet, calm composure, 

Save those only who have led 
Lives of holy, blest obedience 

To His ever righteous will. 
While Creation's wreck with terror 

Wicked si)irits all shall lill ? 

Blest Redeemer ! Blest Redeemer ! 
Grant that in that trying hour [ing," 

Their bright '• lamps be trimmed and burn- 
That they be endued with pow'r 

To escape the conflagration 

Which shall wrap the world with flame, 

While Thy rescued congregation 
Shouts the praises of Thy name. 

Scene III. — Einbarking for China. 
( Theodore, Faith and little Theodore, and Lawrence and 
Fidelia embark for China. Bishop Elmer, Celes- 
tine and Theodoric, and Hubert, Honora and Lil- 
ian, Dr. Evarard and Htimphrey accompa^iy 
them on board the ship. They partake of the 
Lord' s Supper before the vessel sails.) 

Bishop) Ehner, rising : 
Assembled friends ! On this dear, solemn day 



304 , FAITH, 

I call attention loving to the words 

Of Christ's beloved discii)le, John: '''•I will 

Not leaoe you comfortless : Fll come to you^ 

Of all the scenes and incidents wherewith 

Our Saviour's stay on earth recorded is, [glad, 

There's none more sweetly sad, more grandly 

Except the matchless scene of Calvary, 

Than this, wherein He promises the gift 

Of Paraclete and Patron to their souls 

When He should leave. Methinks John's loving 

heart 
Must e'er have welcomed with uncommon zest 
All passages pertaining to Christ's love : 
His must have been a nature somewhat like 
His Master's in its fullness of blest love 
And sympathy for others. E'er he seems 
Forgetful, as it were, of sterner themes 
In dwelling on God's goodness unto men. 
And it is meet that he who welcome "leaned 
Upon his Saviour's breast,'' recipient was 
Of charge such as no other mortal hath 
Been honored with since time began, the care 
Of Christ's blest mother ; and who lived to see 
Fulfillment of that precious prophecy 
Which i^uzzled Peter's brain : " //' / slioiild will 
He tarry till I come^ what's that to theef'' 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 805 

When on the isle of Patmos he beheld 
Clirist come again, and heard His precious voice 
Speak words that bade his prison 'd heart rejoice, 
Should dee])ly realize and ofttimes tell 
That Saviour's matchless love he knew so well. 
Christ felt the cross ajiproaching ; and He would 
Prei)are His lovM disciples with the means 
To bear its bitterness without despair : [cheer 
HeM gird their hearts vvitli words of sweetest 
And i)rayer most heav'nly in its meaning dear, 
For that dread ordeal ; that when He was gone 
They might not feel so utterly alone ; [bear 

Would bless them with the strength to bravely 
Suspense of time between His tragic death 
And Pentecostal day, when Paraclete [sweet 

Should till their souls with blessings far more 
Than e'er before they'd known. 'Twas thus He 
gave [bear 

This i)recious promise which should aid them 
Whate'er of woe He knew awaiting there. 

{Earnestly.) 
And thus to-day when some of us shall leave 
Our native land ; .and all shall sadly grieve. 
We would remember meaning of His word 
Which long ago His dear disciples cheered, 
And bade them look beyond His coming death 



306 FAITH, 

To joys which Holy Ghost should sure bequeath. 
These have been called by that same Spirit now 
To consecrate their lives to mission-vow ; 

( Warmly.) 

And O ! may He who came upon this earth, 
First Missionary, in His Godhood's worth, 
In their true souls pour floods of bliss to-day 
That shall forever cheer their toilsome way : 
May love supernal All their trusting hearts 
With joy which ne'er through any scene departs. 
To bear them on most gladly in the way 
Of Duty, till shall come the final day [rise 

Of earth to them ; when their true souls shall 
To reap love's sweet fruition in the skies. 
May those accompanying assist them, too. 
In all the mighty work Thou giv'st to do, 
And thus their youth and happiness renew 
In serving God, who hath such mercy shown 
Upon their hearts and lives that erst were lone. 
And O, dear Saviour ! on this tender babe 
Who goes with them. Thy precious Spirit i)our. 
That he may grow on far-off heathen shore 
A " bright and burning light" for life to be 
That shines as beacon on a stormy sea 
To win earth's weary souls to worship Thee, 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 307 

And find Thy love sufficient 'mid all strife 
To guide them to the port of endless life. 

( Very warmly. ) 
May we, O Lord ! remaining in this land 
Forget not those who can so bravely stand 
On Christian outpost! May loe '■'■raise their 

hand ' ' \e'er gio'it. 

For covjiict sure through prayers and means 
That souls he won to love of God and heati'n. 
We must assist them, or they work in vain : 
Throughout this mighty land may love of Gain 
Subside beneath the love of Christ as snow 
Melts quick away beneath bright sunshine's 

glow, 
And soon is lifted in the upper air 
To bless the waiting world with dewy worth. 
And show'rs to irrigate the parching earth. 
And make it ripen with blest fruitage there. 
' ' Learn us not comfoi'tless .^ " O ! may we share 
Thy precious promises, Thy ceaseless care. 
Until this life is o'er, and we shall raise 
Throughout Eternity's unending days 
A matchless hymn to tell our Maker's praise. 

{He reads the invitation.) 
Ye who do truly, earnestly repent 
Of sins, and are in love and charity 



308 FAITH, 

With neighbors, and intend to lead new lives, 
As God commands, and walk, in holy ways. 
Draw near with faith and take this sacrament 
Unto your comfort, thereby making, too. 
Confession humble to Almighty God, 
While meekly kneeling here upon your knees. 

We do not make distinctions 'mongst tlie hosts 
Of Christ's glad followers ; all are welcome here : 
The Saviour's, not our table we have spread. 
And all His children are invited as 
l*artakers of this precious wine and bread. 

{He prays.) 

Almighty God ! our Saviour's Father, too, 
And Maker of all things. Judge of all men. 
Acknowledge we, bewail we many sins, 
Much wickedness which we from time to time 
Most grieviously have done by thought and word. 
And deed 'gainst Thy Great Majesty Divine, 
Provoking Thy just wrath and ire against 
Us. We do earnestly repent of these 
Offenses : and remembrance of them is 
Most grievous unto us. Have mercy on 
Us Father, for Thy Son, our Saviour's sake. 
Forgive us what is past, and grant that we 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 309 

May e'er hereafter serve and please Thee in 
New life, to honor and to glory of [Ameft. 

Thy name, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Almighty God ! who of Thy mercy hast 
Forgiveness promised of their sins to all 
That 'With repentance hearty, and true faith 
Return to Thee : haoe mercy on us now ; 
And pardon and deliver us from all 
Our sins ; confirm and strengthen us in all 
That's good, and bring us to eternal life, 
Through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, Lord. Amen. 

Almighty Grod ! by whom all hearts are seen. 
Desires all known, from whom no secret's hid : 
Cleanse thoughts of all our hearts by breathings 
Thy Holy Spirit, that we perfectly [of 

May love Thee, worthily may magnify 
Thy holy name, through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

'Tis meet and right, our bounden duty that 
We should at all times, in all places give 
Thanks unto Thee, O Lord ! our Father, and 
Almigiity, everlasting Gfod. Therefore, 
With angels and archangels, and with all 
Heav'n's company we laud and magnify 



310 FAITH, 

Thy glorious name, forever praising Thee, 
And saying, Holy, Holy God of hosts. 
Thy glory fills the realms of heaven and earth ! 
To Thee most high, be glory e'er. Amen. 

We don' t presume to approach this table. Lord 
In our own goodness trusting, but in Thy 
Great mercies numerous. We don't deserve 
To gather up the crumbs beneath Thy board. 
But Thou art God, whose property it is 
To mercy have always : Grant us, therefore. 
Good Lord ! to eat the flesh of Thy dear Son, 
And drink His blood, that all our sinful souls 
And bodies may be cleansed by His blest death, 
And washed through His most precious blood, 

that we 
May dwell in Him, and He in us. Ameii. 

Almighty God! our Heav'nly Father, who 
Of tender mercy didst once give Thy Son, 
Thine only Son to suffer on the cross 
For our redemi)tion ; who Himself thus made 
A perfect, fidl, sufficient, sacrifice. 
And satisfaction for all sins ; and who 
Established, and commanded that we keep 
Pei'i)etual mem'ry of His precious death 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 811 

Until He come again : Hear us O Lord ! 
We humbly beg, and grant that we receive, 
These creatures, bread and wine, according to 
Thy Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ's command, 
In mem'ry of His death and i)assion, and 
May be j)artakers of His body, blood : [tlianks, 
Who when He was betrayed took bread ; gave 
Brake it, and giving His disciples, said, 
" Take^ eat, this is my body given for you : 
Bo this in fond n^memhrance e^ er of me. 
Lilvewise He took tlie cup ; and giving thanks. 
Gave it to them, and said, " Brink ye of this : 
For 'tis my blood of the New Testament, 
For you, for many it is shed, and for 
Remission of all sins : do this ofttimes 
In sweet remembrance, too, of me.'''' Amen. 

{Bishop Elmer and, Br. Eoarard, receive 
the communion, and all pray. ) 

Our Father who in Heav'n art, 

0-hallow'd be Thy name ; 

Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done 

On earth as 'tis in Heav'n ; 

Give us this day our daily bread ; 

And O ! forgive our debts, 

As debtors we forgive ; into 



312 FAITH, 

Temptation lead us not, 

From evil, O deliver us ; 

For Thine's tlie kingdom, Lord, 

And Thine the pow'r, and glory too 

Forever, Lord. Amen. 

{Tliey rise and sing.) 

O Thou ! who long ago on earth 

This table didst ordain, 
In all Thy precious Spirit-worth 

Meet with us here again. 

To loved ones we must bid adieu, 

Who to Thy vineyard go — 
O ! let us now the vows renew 

That can such strength bestow. 

Thy precious body we would taste. 
Thy precious blood would quaff 

Before they start o'er ocean's waste — 
Be Thou their ready staff : 

Give them the grace that Thou didst have 

When hanging on the tree ; 
Aid them earth' s dying souls to save, 

And bring them back to Thee. 



OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 313 

In all their wanderings, O Lord, 
Be Thou their constant Friend ! 

And through Thine own unfailing Word 
The sweetest comfort send. 

They go ; we staj^ ; and yet our hearts 

May undivided be ; 
The ocean our frail bodies parts — 

But spirit leaps the sea. 

And thus when far antipodes 

They seem unto their home, 
Through spirit-streugth all distance flees : 

Together still we come. 

And thus through life, though ocean rolls 

Between our sever' d forms, 
Thy love can bind our kindred souls 

Secure from earthly storms. 

Grant us, dear Lord ! when death shall come 

And all shall seek our rest — 
O ! maj' we meet in one bright Home, 

And be forever blest. • 



314 FAiiit, 

{Commimicants proceed to the table and 
receive the sacred emblems.) 

Blsho%> Elmer hands the bread : 

The body of our- Saviour, C7irist, 

Which once was giv^nfor t7iee, 
Preserve thy soul and body till 

Eternal life thou ''It see. 
Eat it in mem'ry of the trutli 

That Jesus died for thee., 
And let thy hearty replenish'' d now 

With faith., thanlis giving be. 

Dr. Evarard hands the cup : 

The blood of Jesus Christ., our Lord, 

Which once was shed for thee, 

Preserve thy soul and body till 

Eternal life thou ''It see. 

DrinTc it in fond remembrance of 

The fact Christ died for thee, 

And dare not to forget through life 
To ever thankful be. 

Bishop Elmer proceeds : 

O Lord ! our Heav'nly Father, we desire 
Tlitit Thou 'It accept our sacrifice of j)raise, 
Thanksgiving, and we liumbly beg, grant that 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 315 

By death of Jesus Christ, Thy Son, through fnith 
In Him, we, Thy whole Church, remission may 
Obtain of sins, and other benefits 
Of His blest passion. Here we offer Thee 
Our souls and bodies as a sacrifice ; 
Beseeching Thee that all who here partake 
Of this communion may be filled with grace 
And lieav'nly benediction. And although 
We be unworthy, through our many.sins, 
To offer sacrifice, yet we beseech 
Thee now accept our bounden service ; and 
Weigh notour merits, but forgive our sins, 
Through Jesus Christ, our Lord ; by whom, with 
In unity of Holy Ghost, be all [whom. 

The honor, glory unto Thee, O Lord ! 
Almighty Father, evermore. Amen. 

' To God on high be glory, and 
On earth good will toward men. 
We praise, we bless, we worship Thee, 
Give thanks to Thee also 
For Thy great glory, heav' nly King, 
Our Father and our God. 
O Lord ! the one begotten Son : 
O Lamb of God ! that tak'st 
Away the sins of all the world. 



316 FAITH, 

Have mercy on us now. 
Thon that removest all earth's sins 
Receive onr prayer. Thou who 
Now sittest high on God's right hand. 
Have mercy on us too. 

Thou only holy art : alone 
Art Lord : Thou only Christ, 
With Holy Ghost, art highest in 
God' s glory e' er. Amen. 

t 

May OocTs own peace Jceep all ymir hearts 

And minds in knoioledge^ love of Ood, 

And of His Son^ our Sairiour^ Lord, ; 

The blessing of Almighty God : 

The Father., Son and Holy Ghost, 

Be ''mongst you now., and e'er remain 

With you foremrmwe. Amen. 

{The Cajjtain of Steamer announces 
his readiness to sail. ) 

Bishop Elmer to TJieodore and Faith, hidd/ing 
litem adieu : [spire 

May softest winds and smoothest waves con- 
To bear you to your far-off destined home ; 
May your warm hearts e'er burn with heav'nly 
lire, [come ! ' ' 

Your lives be one fond prayer : ' ' Thy kingdom 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 317 

Celestine: 

There is no Joy on earth like that yon know 
In following Duty's i)athway here below ; 
But when yon reach blest harbor of yon Heav'n, 
May full fruition of your trust be given. 

Theodoric : 

How insignificant to thinking mind 
The joys of earth you willing have resigned : 
My dreams of glory seem to fade away 
Before the splendors of eternal day. 

Hubert to TJteodore : 

My hopes of youth, fruition of late hours 
Appear as only fragrance of sweet How'rs 
That bud, that bloom, that soon shall fade and die ; 
But joy like yours shall blossom in the sky. 

To Faith : 
Ah ! I remember what you told me when. 
I once essayed to win your love again — 
Remember Hubert in your daily prayers, 
That he may not forget amid the cares 
Of state, and blessings fond of earthly love 
To seek, and tind a Home more bright above. 
My friend, good Lawrence, will assist you all 
That he can do, as Consul, in the call 



318 FAITH, 

Of God and love upon that distant shore — 
God bless you e'er— and save us evermore. 

{He loeeps.) 
Honor a to Theodore and Faith : 

How much of good two faithful hearts may do! 
God called thee first ; thou wast so fond and true 
No earthly sacrilice did seem too great 
For thee to make when linked to his thy fate. 

To Lawrence and Fidelia : 
And now two friends besides shall cross the sea, 
A heav'nly impulse guides their destiny, 
They, too, shall labor in their Master s cause. 
Obedient to his will and holy laws. 
Lawrence : 

Yea ! I have thought I knew a bliss divine, 
Because with song my Maker chose to twine 
My heart-strings here. But now I'll learn to 

know 
A purer joy than that on eai-th below : 
The joy to point the weary, broken heart 
Of ignorant heathen to a nobler art 
Than rhyme or rhythm ever brought to me : 
The joy of loving God with conscience free. 
In this sweet task Fidelia e'er shall be 
The faithful sharer of my ecstasy ; 
We'll gladly serve Him for the precious rays 



OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 319 

Of love with which he gikls onr latter days, 
And pray for grace to prize Him far above 
The gift of earth's best friendship and best love. 
Humiplirey to Theodore : 

But stand by Duty as you stood by me, 
And God and angels e'er shall strengthen thee. 
To Faith : 

Be true to God as to thy Theodore, 
And He will surely bless thee evermore. 

Lilian to Faith, as they both weep : [love 

Farewell, my dearest friend! May Heav'n's own 
E'er guide thy footsteps whereso'er they rove. 

Dr. Eoarard to Theodore and Faith : 

My children in the faith 1 I can not tell 
You half my throbbing heart now yearns to say. 
Its bursting fullness stifles fond farewell, 
And weeping bitterly I turn away — 
But O ! may God his choicest blessings send 
On him I ever proudly called a friend ; 
And on his wife, my school-girl in past days, 
Until we meet above to sing his praise ! 
May angel-vigils guard their little one 
Till life of usefulness below is done. 
And we shall meet beside the " crystal sea,'' 
To live and love through all Eternity, 

{The vessel sails.) 



320 FAITH, 

Ancfels sing around the steamer's j^athway: 
Calm, O calm ! the stormy measure 

Ocean of tliy boist'rous waves, 
Spread thy brightest gems and treasure 

All abroad from out thy caves ; 
For a vessel's sailing o'er thee 

Laden with a richer freight 
Than was ever cast before thee 

When there passed the proud and great. 

Softly bring, ye winds, a blessing 

As she speeds so swift along, 
Lift her sails with sweet caressing 

While ye breathe a tender song : 
Four true hearts are fondly beating 

In her kind embrace to-day. 
While the moments fast are tleeting 

Bearing them from home away. 

WouLlst thou know, O treach'rous ocean! 

Why we beg thy peace this hour, 
Why we ask stay thy commotion. 

Why restrain thy wicked pow'r ? 
' Tis because brave hearts go willing 

In their Maker's lield to sow, 
While their souls are gladly thrilling 

Blest Redeemer's love to know. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 321 

Scene IV. — Eveyiing Devotions at Sea. ( Theodore 
and Faith worship, while little Theodore sleeps 
in their berth?) 

They sing : 

We come this evening to Thee, Lord ! 

To stay our hearts with prayer, 
To lift our souls to Heav'n above, 

And fix them firmly there. 

Though home and country we resign 

For sake of Jesus' love, 
A fairer land and brighter clime 

Shall welcome us above. 

And while we strive to teach Thy Word 

To heathen hearts below, 
O ! grant that through Thy sov' reign grace 

Thou 'It constant strength bestow. 

We feel that time and circumstance 

But bear us on to Thee — 
O ! let Thy love illume our hearts 

As morning gilds the sea. 

May every thought, and every hope 

To Thy blest will be giv'n, 
That we may reap a harvest sweet 

In endless joys of Heav'n : 



322 FAITH, 

And there with saints and angels, too, 
We'll bless the path we've trod. 

And sing the triuniplis of that grace 
That leads us on to God. 

TJteodoi'e prays : 

O Lord ! Omnipotent, Omniscient, and 
Forever Omnipresent, give ns now 
The fullness of that j)recious grace divine 
That "will not let Thee go" until we climb 
To Heav'n above ! We know Thy boundles§ love ! 
In all our wand' rings we but daily prove 
Our sure dependence on Thee, and that Thou 
Canst sanctify with strength each sj)irit-vow. 
Be with us as we journey: calm the seas, 
That we may live Tliy gracious will to please. 
And gather harvest in that far-off land 
Which on that dreadful day shall safely stand 
Creation's dying throes. We come to Thee 
As children to a parent : let us be 
Forever mindful that Tliy strong right arm 
Can shield us from all earthly woe or harm ; 
That blest unstinted fullness of Thy grace 
Can lead us on through life to see Thy face. 
Not "darkly as through a glass " as now we do, 
But "face to face" as Thou dost see us too. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 323 

We offer liini, onr darling first-born child, 

A precions sacrifice unto Thy love : 

O ! gird him with the strengtli that angels know 

To aid him in his march towards Thee above. 

Let Thy blest Spirit hover o'er that land, 

May heathen learn the meaning all so grand 

Of Thy Salvation ; while an ocean rolls 

Of love eternal to the distant poles 

Of earth's most frozen zones, and wind and wave 

Shall bear forever as their shores they lave 

T/ff' story of Redemption ! May it go 

Where'er tall mountain-tops are capped with 

snow ; 
Where'er the blooming valleys lie below ; 
Where'er great rivers run, where'er vast plain 
Its arms extend to grasp the sky again ; 
Where'er bright tropic beams their lustre shed, 
Where polar clime whence life hath almost fled ; 
Where'er on earth a speck of land is known. 
Or drop of water spreads its journey lone ; 
Wherever space or time their being claim — 
O ! breathe the jyTeeious- sound of Jesus'' name ! 
Until all earth shall hear the gladsome news. 
That heathen hearts no longer can refuse, 
And which, at last, shall rouse the slumb'ring 

Jews ; 



324 FAITH 



While all tlie world shall join the seraph-song 
That through its utmost bound' ries rolls along, 
E'er lifting souls as they shall chant His x^raise 
But higher still in ecstasy always ; 
Till time shall cease— Eternity shall come 
And earth's redeemed shall tind their heav'nly 

home. 
Forever, Lord ! forever we are thine ! 
Let Thy blest jiromises our hearts entwine 
Through life— when death our ready souls shall 

call 
O ! may we in Thy waiting arms but " fall 
Asleep "—to wake upon that radiant shore, 
To sing Thy love and praise for evermore. 

A vast concourse of angels sweep over the ocean ; 
then hover 'round the ship and sing : 

O ! the River of Salvation ! 

Sweeping through a sin-struck world, 
Wlio shall estimate its grandeur 

Till its glories are unfurled? 
From a scarcely noticed streamlet 

'Mid Judea's far-off hills, 
With a motive power unearthly 

Soon a continent it fills. 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. o25 

On its broad, majestic bosom 

Nations come and go in peace, 
Where its tranquil waves are flowing 

Superstition's horrors cease ; 
And as ages rolling onward 

Bear it with them in their flow. 
It is sweeping sjnrit-errors 

From the hearts of men below. 

Long ago it crossed the ocean 

In its never-ceasing stride, 
Passed Atlantic's roaring billows 

With its great, resistless tide : 
Savages have grown exultant 

In beholding its blest flow, 
Indian hearts revere " Great Spirit " 

With the zeal that Christians know. 

It is seeking now an outlet 

On the far Southwestern shore, 
Mexico has caught the ripple 

Of a sound ne'er heard before ; 
While its waters strive to gather 

Force again to cross the sea. 
And in far Pacific Islands 

Join the wave that there may be. 



326 



FAITH, 



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OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 



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328 FAiTn, 

It is surfj^ing on tlirongh India, 

Sparkling 'neatli Japan's bright sun, 
It is lieard on Cliinese boundary 

With an echo scarce begun : 
While amid the distant regions 

Of a frozen Arctic zone, 
It is chanting sweetest anthems 

With a music all its own. 

It has pierced the tangled jungles 

Of parch' d Africa's domain ; 
It has cheered the burning Desert 

With its soft and sweet refrain ; 
And while mighty kings are glad'ning 

As it Hows their realms along, 
See poor Afric's sons are listing 

To its strange, unearthly song. 

It shall compass every nation, 

It shall float on every sea. 
It shall charm earth's list'ning millions 

With its angel-minstrelsy ; 
Till the world shall learn to echo 

From its every hill and dome 
Sweet response unto its rix)ple, 

As it sings : " Thy Kinrjdom Come ! " 



OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 'S29 

O ! the River of Salvation ! 

As it Hows the earth along, 
Waking e'en the courts of lieav'n 

With its sweet, sonorous song ; 
It shall onward sweei) increasing 

In its march through si)ace and time, 
Till it circles heav'n and mingles 

In Eternity's great chime. 

Who are these whoWe Hailing with it. 

With their pennants to the breeze, 
As it glides forever onward 

Through the land, and o' er the seas f 
They are chanting sweetest sonnets, 

They are breathing softest jpr ay er. 
While the river swiftly hears them 

On its bosom all so fair . 

Tliey are those who do His bidding, 

They are thos.e who hear His voice. 
And who yield up worldly pleasures, 

Wliile their spirits e'er rejoice 
That the Master deems them worthy 

Thus to wander with the waves 
Of His own resplendent river. 

While earth's eotry land it laves. 



330 FAITH, 

They shall nestle in His bosom 

When eternity shall come, 
Crowns shall glitter with bright "jewels" 

For them in that heav'nly home ; 
And while all the nations gather 

For great judgment 'round the throne, 
Their glad hearts shall thrill with rapture 

That they ne'er before have known ; 

For the mighty Judge, ascending, 

Thus unto the world shall call : 
0! ye missionaries faiihful 

Unto Me now come ye all ! 
Ye have labored in My ^'^ oineyard^'*'' 

For '''■My sheep'''' have milling died. 
While ye strove to reap the ^''harvest " 

Ever rhp'n'ing far and wide: 

Angels ! bring your brightest star-gems 

To adorn their shining brows, 
Seraphs! string your sweetest harp-strings 

To reverberate their vows ; 
For as long as endless ages 

Shall repeat the joys of Heavri, 
Just so long shall highest places 

To their faithful souls be given. 



i©tf)er l^oemsi. 



SELF-DENIAL AND CHRISTIAN SYMPATHY. 
(Mark 8: 34.; Gal. 6 : 2.) 

This world is full of cross-laden souls 

Who bear their woes along, 
Some with the murmur of sad comx)laint, 

And some with a blithesome song. 
Some think it braver to let the cross 

Show through probation hours ; 
While others bear it with better grace 

When weaving it o'er with flowers. 

Some who are blest in their daily life 

With little or naught of care, 
Find a skeleton- cross when they go abroad 

To cruelly mock them there : 
While others who feel its deadliest weight 

In the home-circle day by day, 
When removed from this for a time, surprise 

By their wonderful spirit-X)lay. 

331 



882 SELF-DENIAL. 

But all along tlie pathway of life 

We may mark where the cross has been ; 
We may trace where 'tw^as borne aloft in the strife, 

Or dragged in the conliict with sin. 
Some feel it in want of wealth or fame ; 

Some feel it from lack of power ; 
Some writhe because of a slandered name ; 

And some crave beauty's dower. 

While some who would give all these to know 

The throb of one faitlif ul heart, 
Who for truest affection from all below 

Save honor would willingly part, 
Mast stand aside from the magic scene 

Where earth's favored ones may go, [been," 
And, in mocking dreams of what "might have 

Bury their own deep woe. 

O ! the countless crosses we daily meet ! 

Then let us kindly share. 
At home and abroad, in hall or street. 

The burdens we may not bear. 
For the bitterest cross of all is to know. 

While staggering 'neath our load. 
That a fellow-mortal can scorn our woe. 

And jostle us on the road. 



A DREAM. 333 



A DREAM.* 

One niglit when moon and stars were darkl}^ 
blent [winds 

With threatening clouds, and wailing winter- 
Swept by my home and rattled o'er the roof, 
Till Nature's self seemed grieving that she lived. 
And spirit-forms were gliding 'round my couch, 
I slept and dreamed :— 

A fair-haired, bright eyed boy 
Beside his mother prattled of the time 
When he should be a man ! I saw her smile 
As one entranced may see the angels smile. 
Then kiss and kiss her darling, gifted child 
Till his face too was radiant with heaven. 
Then as they knelt and through the stilly air. 
Such as in Sicily is sometimes known — 
(The angels bated breath till it was done— ) 
I heard that mother's prayer : " O God ! I bring 
The dearest gift Thou ever gavest me 
An offering back to Thee ! His soul is pure 
as Isaac's when his father laid him on 
The seeming f uneral-jnle. Do with him. Lord ! 



♦ Dedicated to all persons who are trying to rescue any of the human 
race from temptation, sin, and sorrow. 



334 A DKEAM. 

As seemeth best in Thine all-seeing sight ; 
And give me grace to rear my child aright." 
And then the angels burst into such song 
Of melody, and harmony, and rhythm, 
That rapt in that my soul seemed borne away 
Whither God dwells and angels love to stay. 
•* ^t * * * * 

The scene was changed : Again I saw the boy ; 
And while I live the memory of that sight 
Can never be effaced ; for he had grown 
Almost to manhood. On his lofty brow, 
And in the language of his matcliless eyes, 
I saw the promise of blest future years, 
As one will read in ruddy eastern sky 
Foretoken of the dawn. He stood within 
A splendid mansion where the lights and shades 
Were sweetly blent to please his artist-eye. 
And tones akin to heaven's own minstrelsy 
Breathed in his music-ear. His poet-heart 
Caught inspiration from the magic scene ; 
His gifted soul was lifted from the earth 
In ecstasy to genius only known, [heaven. 

And basked midway between this world and 
Just then the Tempter came: "Drink but this 

'health,' 
The pledge of deathless friendship while we live. 



A DREAM. 335 

I'll ask no more" — The subtle poison stole 
Into the inmost recess of his brain, 
A nd fired it all afresh with dreams intense 
Of glory and of bliss : until he learned 
To long for its recurrence as the flower 
Longs for the dew to freshen up its bloom, 
And vivify its verdure. She who love<J 
That noble boy as only mothers love. 
And joyed to think of all his future wortli 
As bruised and gifted spirits only think, 
Slowly began to lose her hold on life, 
And thence to glide into eternity. 

As brightest vernal morn may lose its light 
In blackest thunder-clouds, and balmiest air 
May grow death-laden with electric flash. 
While "heaven's artillery" roars with deafening- 
crash, 
Such the confusion that the wine-cup brought 
To his God-gifted spirit. Madly wrecked. 
And madd'ning more from knowledge of the 

wreck, 
He plunged from one excess into another, till 
Like star loosed from its orbit, on he flew 
Whither himself nor any mortal knew ; 
And all loas lost ! His lofty nature fell 



336 A DREAM. 

Below that of the brutes, or only lived 

To shoot forth glaring, wand' ring, meteor-beams, 

As burning vessels light the mocking waves 

With their cold, ghastly splendor : then he sunk 

To an untimely grave. But he who gai^e 

The tempting draught hy tohich a soul was lost, 

And lengthened life of usefulness to man. 

Grew rich; and men and women prized him 

well ; 
While on the drunkard's grave but curses fell, 

* * * * * 

A cold, dread tremor seized my sleeping frame ; 

I heard a trumpet-tone call forth my name. 

As though ' twould rouse in that one word all 

heaven. 
While to my waiting ear this sound was given : 
' ' They who would lure a mortal man to drink, 
To deepest depths of hell must surely sink ; 
Though crowns were theirs with all their glitter- 
ing worth. 
They win perdition hy their course on earth : 
' Touch not, taste not,'' — that you yourselves may 

line. 
And, ' handle not ' — hence to no other give.'''' 



southland's legacy. 337 

SOUTHLAND'S LKGACY. 

I was opposed to the war at the outset. I wept when I 
heard of the bombardment of Fort Sumter ! I sought retire- 
ment so that I might not hear or see any of the political 
leaders, the great end and aim of whose statesmanship was to 
precipitate the havoc that subsequently swept their fields and 
cities. But when Virginia, my native state, seceded, there was 
only one course for me to pursue, namely, to follow her 
fortunes. — Robert E. Lee. 

O grandly brave ! sublimely gifted man ! 

Upon thy country's four years' funeral-pile 

To calmly immolate thyself when thou 

Didst feel such sacrifice were useless ! 

For wealth, for love, for empire, patriot-zeal, 

Men ofttimes risk their lives ; yet these all hope 

Success will crown their efforts. Thou alone 

Didst see defeat inevitable : yet 

Believing duly called thee, stood as firm 

As Sparta's band when firmness brought success, 

And fame for all the ages ! Manhood hatli 

No higher phase than this ; it almost comes 

Within the precincts of a higher range 

Of being ; and we call thee great 

Beyond comparison ! O ! blest for aye 

A life from which such lessons we may draw ! 

As truest, noblest motherhood will watch 
With care intensified an idiot child. 



338 southland's legacy. 

Almost neglecting others, bearing all 
Its vagaries with patience, aiding still 
Whene'er its worse than helplessness would soon 
Precipitate self-murder — then with calm, 
Yet breaking heart, will shroud it for the tomb ; 
So thou, O Chieftain, Christian, Patriot grand ! 
Without a parallel in all the world ! 
Didst nurse thy maniac countrj' when to arms 
She wildly sprung and courted lier deep woes ; 
Joyed with her joys and comforted her griefs 
Until the dread Ji/iale — then, O Lee ! 
Thy grand reserve of character shone forth 
In silence more than golden ! Every man. 
And woman, every child in all the South 
Might well have learned a lesson of thee here 
That shall be practiced in eternity. 
We'll not forget on that celestial shore 
Our earthly sorrows ; but our happy songs 
Will never tell of these : they'll only be [claim 
The sounding-board from whence our loud ac- 
Of joy and praise will, sometimes, softly spring 
A minor key to beautify the song. 
* -it * * * 

O politicians ! heed his noble words, 

And weep j^our country's peril ! Yet again 

Shed bitterer tears that sitch heiolc hearts 



SONG FOR THE KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. 339 

Must bear the burden of your misdeeds 
And sink, as he, to graves so immature — 
(Methinks the angels weej) when good men die. 
While others, causing this may linger on) — 
Yet should you, reckless still of all save self, 
Precipitate this glorious God-blest land 
To woes yet deeper still, and kindle fires 
(Jnly extinguished loith a natiorC a ruin ; 
Should weeds and brambles cover all the Soutli, 
And Famine, War, and Pestilence combine 
To seal the triple curse of Heaven thereon : 
Yet in some future age will travelers stand. 
And view the desolation of this land 
Witii |)ensive mood and sadly throbbing heart, 
And almost weep wh«i o'er 7ds dust they bend — 
Such was our fate — then tell to all the earth, 
" We\rie seen the land immortal in its worth 
Which to a Washington an/1 Lee gavehirth! " 



SONG FOR THE KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. 

Knights of Pythias ! Can it be 
Truest friendship here we see ? 
Is the vow so sacred, kind. 
That doth mingle mind with mind, 
That each Knight would dare to die 
Damon-like for this sweet tie ? 



840 SONG FOR THE KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. 

Would you cheer your suffering brother, 
Tliough deserted by liis mother ? 
Would you comfort his distress 
In this earthly wilderness, 
Tliough his kindred all combined 
To esti'ange him from your mind ? 
Would you lift him from disgrace, 
Teach him sins to thus efface ; 
First confess and then forsake, 
Thus a new, true life to make ? 
Would you sorrow in his woes ? 
Woidd you aid him 'gainst his foes 'i 
Would you shield his tarnished name? 
Would you glory in his fame ? 

Would you love him, rich or poor ? 
Is your friendship still secure 
When the waves of slander roll. 
And misfortune sears the soul ? 
When earth's deadliest sorrows come 
Would you take him to your home, 
And there heli> him build again 
Faith in Grod and faith in mnn ; 
Thence to go forth fresh in life 
Veriest hero in the strife? 



80NG FOR THE KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. 841 

! if tliis can be your creed 

It is wliat the world doth need ! 
It has sprung from Jndah's line, * 
All ! it is a flower divine, 
Nurtured in the realms of bliss. 
Only lent awhile to this ! 

1 have dreamed of golden climes 
Echoing Eden's angel-chimes, 

I have watched the sunset die 

In the far-off western sky, 

Almost lifted by its cheer 

From this wicked mundane sphere ; 

And 'twas blisfe awhile to soar 

Where no grief could reach me more ! 

But if purest friendship dwell 

On the earth I love so well, 

With its own God-given bowers 

Blight with blest celestial flowers, 

A new era springs to birth : 

Ye have brought down heaven to earth ! 



* A Jewish Rabbi once told a Christian minister, " I have the highest 
respect for Christianity; for it is the daughter of Judaism." See John 
4:21, 22. 



842 THE widow's vesper hymn. 

THE WIDOW'S VESPER HYMN. 

I know of a magical Garden 

That blooms on a River so bright 
The crests of its waves far outsparkle 

The sunbeams that flood it with light ; 
And oft when my spirits are saddened 

I list to the River's sweet song, 
And wander 'mid walks overarching 

That follow its windings along. 

Great Babylon's famed "hanging gardens" 

Were scarcely as lovely as mine ; 
'Tis bordered and trellised with flow'rets . 

Like Adam and Eve loved to twine, 
When flrst in their innocent gladness 

They dwelt 'mid the glories of God, 
And dreamed not a moment of sttdness 

Could darken the path that they trod. 

When Winter is howling around me. 

And storms are distracting the sky ; 
When Spring is so sweetly unfolding, 

When Summer's soft breathings are nigh ; 
When Fall comes I wander 'mid blossoms 

That mind me of heaven above— 
For the Past is my magical garden 

That blooms by the River of Love ! 



CHKisTiAN fratp:rnity. 343 

CHRISTIAN FRATERNITY. 
(John 17: 20, 21.) 

Hi^li on earth's outpost grand, 
Near by the Promised Land, 
I see a veteran stand 
With lofty eye and hand. 
Pointing just over where 
High rises fresh and fair 
An Eden hindscai)e rare 
That blooms forever there. 

Far 'neath his shining feet, 
With dark waves cold and fleet 
That on its bosom beat 
With Death's sad rhythm meet, 
A surging river flows. 
That on forever goes, 
Beyond this world of woes, 
Whitlier no mortal knows. 

Calling to those below. 
While towers celestial throw 
Their highest noontide glow 
To gild his eyrie so ; 
A dazzling banner streams. 
All lit with golden gleams. 



344 MY BIRTHDAY. 

Which in its lustre seems 

As bright as heaven' s own beams 

" O ! ye who love the Lord — 
His name be e'er adored ! — 
Who'd wield the Spirit's sword 
Along with His blest Word ; 
Behold engraven high 
In letters near the sky, 
And dear to angel-eye, 
The word 'Fraternity ' ! " 

He sinks within the tide 
That sweei)s the mount beside, 
While o'er it far and wide 
A trooj) of angels glide ; 
Who bear the ensign grand, 
With him, beyond the strand 
Where saints rejoicing stand, 
Within the Promised Land. 



MY BIRTHDAY. 

Sweep on ! Sweep on ye years ! 
Though short has been your stay 
Since my last natal day. 
And oftentimes I've known deep sorrow's 
tears. 



MY BIRTHDAY. 345 

I would not call you back 
From grand, celestial track, 
Nor mar your march with my poor hopes 
nor fears. 

Ye are God's angels bright ! 

Sent from around the throne 

Where joy is ever known, 
To soften and subdue the souls of men ; 

That through the cycles grand 

Of far-off Better Land 
We may be likened to Himself again. 

Ye've been most kind to me ! — 

When earth in vernal bloom 

Was laden with perfume, 
And Love and Mercy breathing everywhere, 

Ye brouglit me being'^' — now, 

With furrows on my brow, 
My spirit bounds to breathe its natal air. 

Refined and puritied 
By woes, I stand beside 
Old Time's resistless tide. 
Nor fear his utmost power that bears me on 



•March, 30th. 



846 HYMN FOR EASTER. 

Whither ye hasten well, 
Whither the angels dwell ; 
And where my brightest dreams and hopes 
have gone, 

O ! grand, immortal years ! 

Ye that beyond the dirge 

Of Jordan's wave and snrge 
Shall mingle with Eternity your chime, 

How blest shall be my song 

As ye shall sweep along, 
And endless ages all are sweet Springtime ! 



HYMN FOR EASTER. 
(Luke, 24 : 50, 51.) 

Joy! joy! joy! 

The hour is come 
Wlien He who died for man 

Again goes home ! 
Legions of angels speed, 

An escort from the sky. 
To guard their precious charge, 

Our Saviour, back on high. 



THE EVENING RIDE. 847 

Joy ! joy ! joy ! 

The gates of heav'n swing 
Wide open while serai)hic hosts 

Tlieir loudest welcome ring ! 
He blest them as He rose 

From out tlieir sight above ; 
He'll bless us evermore 

With never-dying love. 

Joy ! joy ! joy ! 
Jesus again shall come, 
To bear His followers all 

Unto His heavenly home : 
There shall our spirits be 

Forever sanctified ; 
While heaven shall ring with endless 
l)raise 
That ever Jesus died ! 



THE EVENING RIDE. 

At that happy hour 
Ere Sol sinks to rest in the gold-flooded west, 
And songster is calling his mate to her nest ; 
When answering these comes the mild evening 

breeze, 
Soft playing and sighing in tops of the trees, 



348 THE EVENING RIDE. 

And Nature, so sweet, calls each mortal to greet 
The voice of his Maker with offering meet ; 
Then Billy* and I in our gladness pass by. 
And join our loved vespers to those of the sky. 

He bears him so proud ! 
With neck arching grand as though then he might 

stand 
The steed of the mightiest of all in the land ; 
His ears pointing right as if quickly in sight 
Some monster were coming his steps to aft'right ; 
His long-iiowing mane caressing the rein, 
Then sweeping far down from bridle again ; 
His step light as air, while swift-moving there, 
He seems but rejoicing his burden to bear. 

I know him too well 
To fear any harm that my care could disarm ; 
And thus I can yield me to Nature' s sweet charm, 
And drink in the bliss of a scene like to this, 
With joy to which rapture is name not amiss. 
I answer the bird with a soft music-word. 
And welcome the breeze that our coming hath 

stirred ; 
Then sing a sweet song as he's gliding along. 
Disturbed by no meeting nor passing of throng, 

*A favorite pony whose good and noble traits are not here overdrawn. 



SERENADE. 349 

No wonder we read 
How hero of old, with his millions of gold,* 
His steed with such gladness could ever behold ; 
How warrior reveres the brave charger that 

cheers 
His inarches and battles, and sheds bitter tears 
To lose him, when I such kind feelings descry 
Towards Billy when thus I commune with the 

sky- 
How quickly then he in obedience to me. 
But canters the faster as homeward we flee ; 
Wliile from the far west a sw^eet orison blest 
Is breathed from the sunset to gladden my rest ! 



SERENADE. 

Do you ask why I love you ? — Go ask the bright 
star, 

That glows with such splendor in ether afar. 

Why it twinkles and sparkles at each passing- 
face 

That loves to behold it in far dwelling-place. 

Do you ask why I love you ? — Go ask the light 

breeze 
That sighs as it passes among the green trees. 



* Alexander the Great. 



350 SEEEISTADE. 

Why it kisses so sweetly tlie clieek of repose, 
And lingers so softly on tips of the rose. 

Do you ask why I love yon ? — Go ask the fair 

flower, 
That blooms in such splendor in beauty's blest 

bower, 
Why it lifts its soft petals to catch the sun's 

beam, 
And bows to the music of zephyr and stream. 

Do you ask why I love you ? — Go ask the cold 

wire, 
That gladdens and trembles with quick 'lectric 

Are, 
Why it flashes the lightning at mortal's request, 
To link with its accents the East and the West. 

Do you ask why I love you ? — Go ask the bright 
bow, 

As it clasps yonder heav'n with earth far below, 

Why it weaves from the storm-cloud such exqui- 
site hues, 

To paint a sweet message no heart can refuse. 

Do you ask why I love you ? — Go ask blazing sun. 
That floods the far planets with light as they run, 



THE PESTILENCE. 351 

Why they turn, as they journey to greet his loved 

face, 
And quicken when near him, their speed in the 

race. 

Do you ask why I love j^^ou ? — Go ask the pole- 
star, 
As it guides the poor seaman on l)illo\vs afar, 
Why needle magnetic e'er trembles and turns 
To one point of the heavens alone — toiler e it 
hums ! 

When all these have answered your queries, and 

given 
The reasons they follow the laMs of yon heaven ; 
Then^ in the same accents of earth and of skj% 
Of Love's subtle essence I'll tell you tlie why. 



THE PESTIIvENCE— VICKSBURG IN 1878. 

By a grandly sweeping river. 

With broad, majestic waves, 
Whose ceaseless music-murmurs 

Beguile the land it laves ; 
Where "floating-palace" steamers 

Go bounding to the sea, 
« There stands a stately city 

Well known to you and me. 



852 THE PESTILENCE. 

When war had flashed its banners 

This Southern land all o'er, 
And foenian's mighty cannon 

Were belching from each shore ; 
Begirt with loyal heroes 

That city nobly stood 
With bnlwarks firm which still defied 

All woes of fire or flood. 

But in an lionr unguarded 

A foeman crept within 
Whose haggard, stony visage 

Rose o'er the city's din, 
Till men forgot their business. 

And women fled to j)rayer, 
To ' scape the deadly monster 

So swiftly rising there. 

One single note of warning 

From a far-oif, inland town,* 
Whose dwellers all from old to young 

Beneath his wrath go down, 
Had scarcely reached your sentinels 

Before that form is seen. 
To quickly rise within your midst 

With Death's terrific men ! 



* Grenada, Miss. 



THE PESTILENCE. 853 

O ! then your faithful body-guard, 

Fair city near the sea, 
Four hramst, noblest, truest, best, 

Still true loere found to be ! 
While panic-stricken thousands tied 

From out the monster' s grasp. 
Your MORAL HEROES suatcli his prey 

From out his stony clasp ! 

Your churches may be silent 

While your clergy stricken lie, 
Your business-marts deserted be 

While workmen " do or die " ; 
Pliysicians may be weary 

In their heaven-appointed task, 
And "Brothers," "Sisters,' nurses, all 

For rest may vainly ask ; 

But a host of pitying angels 

Are camped around the town. 
Their busy wings are flitting by 

When daylight goeth down ; 
On thousand mercy -errands, 

All through the lonely night, 
To sick and weary still they go 

Upon their mission bright. 



354 THE FROST. 

O ! ye who tend tlie afflicted 

With your doubly grateful care ; 
O ! ye who cheer the dying 

With your ministry of x^rayer ; 
O ! ye who stand beside them 

With i^atient, willing hand — 
Ye all shall be rewarded 

In the far-off Better Land ! 

There's a crown of brightest glory 

For each fainting, care-worn brow 
That is throbbing true to Duty 

In the time of trial now ; 
There's a palm of richest verdure 

For each weary, toiling hand — 
Cheer up heroes ! Ye shall find them 

In the far-off Better Land ! 



THE FROST. 

Thank God for the beautiful frost ! 
In deepest of woe our dear Southland is draped, 

Every house mourns its loved ones entombed ; 
The Cypress is all that is left to us now 

Where so lately the Summer hath bloomed. 

October 20, 1878. 



THE nun's message. 355 

We have wept, we have pr<ayed for the dying who 

sleep [deep ; 

Wliere love can not ronse them from slumbers so 

Bnt onr hearts late so sad must, one moment, be 

glad — 

Thank God! ! thank God for the frost ! 

Thank God for the long-prayed-for frost ! — 
Once we sought to be free from the ties of the 
North, 
Once we dreamed we could prosper alone ; 
We knew not how near in the hour of deep woe. 

Nor how dear the far North could be known. 
Her CHARITY flows in a stream all so wide 
It hath loelded, a nation^ whatever betide : [air, 
And we welcome the breath of her health-giving 
For it lifts from our Southland the pall of despair, 
Thank God ! ! thank God for the frost ! 



THE NUN'S MESSAGE.* 
Away in a far-off land there sat 

A woman crowned with a queenly crown ; 
For the hearts of thousands trust in her 

As she draws the blessings of heaven down. 



* When Miss Frances E. Willard spoke at Santa Fe, New Mexico, the 
Mother Superior of the convent there sent her word, " Tell that Protestant 
N\in we are not allowed to ^o to hear her— but, when the convent bell 
strikes for the Angelus, we will pray thai all the saints in heaven will bless 
the woman who has come so far to speak to us." 



356 THF nun's message. 

Another woman had come from afar — 

"The land of the free and the home of the 
brave" — 

To carry a message of Christian love 
To the hearts of those she'd die to save. 

The " Mother Superior" felt in her soul 

The tide of that love our Saviour knew 
When He said His disciples "as one" should 
be, 

And thus as " His followers" e'er be true. 
But her convent-home she could not leave ; 

Its rules were relentless ; she could not yield 
To the throb of her heart which bade her hear 

The voice that such wondrous power could 
wield. 

So she sent a message so sweet and blest 

That the angels paused to list its tone 
And carry its meaning back to heaven 

Ere the saintly stranger away had gone : 
" Tell that Protestant Nun we can not leave 

Our convent-home her words to hear, 
But when the Angelus rings at eve. 

Each heart in this building we hold so dear 



THE nun's message. 357 

" Will pray that all the saints in heaven 

Will bless the tooman who came so far 
To speak to us ! " And thiis was given 

New strengtli for her hands in the holy war. 
And methinks that eve when the Vespers rang, 

A trooj) of angels in bright array 
Were poised ai'ound the virgin-form 

Of the woman who spoke at Santa Fe ; 

And that when she rose in that audience vast, 

Th' aroma of all their presence meant 
Was around her head like a halo cast — 

And straight to each heart her message went ! 
And in the years that are yet to come 

Sweet tlowers around her path shall bloom, 
The embryo-spark of whose life was lit 

When those sweet nuns prayed in their con- 
vent tomb. 

And as from the grave our Saviour rose 

To bless the woman who loved him so. 
And scatter the radiance of that love 

Where'er on earth their footsteps go, 
So women's hearts shall girdle the world 

With network of prayer and praise so sweet 
The "New Jerusalem" shall come down 

Some glorious day those prayers to meet. 



358 VASHTl'S LAMENT. 

VASHTl'S LAMENT. 
(Esther i: 19.) 

And must I leave thee Shushan ? Can I go 
Where ne'er again thy beauty I shall know ? 
Must stranger-hands thy Eden-ilow'rets twine, 
And stranger-heart annul all trace of mine ? 
Shall minstrel wake the sweet, poetic strain 
For those who ne'er will think of me again ? 
Shall souls all rapt in their own bliss divine 
Forget the agony that now is mine ? 

Fain would I linger 'mid thy sunny bowers 
Where Love so long hath woven happy hours ; 
I fain would wake, as comes the earliest dawn, 
At song of birds that herald every morn ; 
And lay me down at night to dream of bliss 
That once was mine 'mid magic scene like this. 



"a' 



Yet I must go : the solemn mandate 's come ! 
A queen dethroned I evermore must roam ; 
A to/fe unwed I must my path pursue 
While other hearts shall my fond vows renew ; 
And other lii)s shall breathe in tenderest tone 
To listening ears that once were all my own. 



VASHTI'S LAMENT. 359 

My woman's soul must stoop to bear its cross ; 
My woman's heart must never tell its loss ; 
My woman's happiness, so pure and bright, 
Must sink fore'er in deepest, darkest night ; 
While not one star, save memory, shall shed 
Its hallowed rays o'er joys forever fled. 

O wine ! thou mocker of the human race ! 
Without tliy spell ne'er had known disgrace ; * 
Without thy coil, thy serpent sting, his heart 
Could ne' er have thought from Vashti e' er to part ; 
Without thy madness he had never known 
My truest wifehood ever to disown : 
Not love, but lust dwells in thy fatal snare; 
And Vashti' s every hope lies shrouded there. 

And yet, methinks, I am not all bereft, 

Since noblest, purest womanhood is left. 

The "Magi" say there'll come a glorious morn 

When a " new star" will usher in the dawn ; 

Adown the ages far they glimpse its ray. 

To weary woman pointing out the way 

To win back Eden ! For that hour I'll wait, 

And waiting thus in hope shall conquer fate ; 



* Esther, i: 10-12. 



360 THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESS. 

For strong, true hearts know neither time nor 

space ; 
They're blest for aye : will find their destined 

I)lace. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESS. 

ScKNE, Heaven. — The Holy Trinity in Consultation 
over the fall of Adam and Eve. 

God the Father : 

Man has fallen ! Woman's bound 

With a chain no power may break ; 
Sin has coiled its shackles 'round, 

Earth is cursed for its dread sake. 
Ne'er again shall Eden bloom 

In yon sphere I made so fair ; 
Paradise itself 's a tomb, 

Death shall stalk forever there. 
God the Son : 

Father ! Father ! Say not so ! 
Holy Father ! I will go 
In that sphere to live and die 
If thou' It but reverse that cry. 
God the Holy Ghost : 

If thou 'It change it I will lend 
Messenger to that sad world 



THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESS. 361 

That shall be the Saviour's friend 

Wlieresoe'er His truth 's unfurled. 
There 's a pirit dwells in Heaven, 
Which, to that lost orb once given. 
In conjunction with His love, 
Yet shall raise it high above 
All it ever could have known, 
With fair Eden still its own. 

God the Father : 

I'll recall the direful word 

That with tears all heaven hath heard. 

Choi'us of Angels : [light ! 

Life springs from death ! from darkness 
Yon sin-cursed earth shall grow more bright ; 
In the long ages yet to come 
That world shall be a Saviour's home. 
While all its lands and seas shall thrill 
In echo to God's mercy still ! 
A Saviour's form shall bless its bowers ; 
A Saviour's hand shall cull its flowers ; 
A Saviour's footsteps come and go 
Where sin hath lately ravaged so ; 
A Saviour's loving accents bless 
Tlie haunts of even the wilderness ; 
A Saviour's Heaven-sent pres nee cheer 



:S62 THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESS. 

Its every nook, both far and near, 

Till men and beasts shall learn to know 

That God is with them here below. 

A Saviour's great, strong heart shall bleed 

In drops of woe for earth's deep need ; 

A Saviour's spirit harrowed be 

By sorrows of Gethsemane. 

A Saviour' s throes when life hath lied 

Shall rouse from out their graves the dead ; 

The stilling of a Saviour's heart 

Shall rend the solid rocks apart ; 

And midnight darkness clothe the sun 

When that blest Saviour's race is run. 

A Saviour' s wondrous gift of Love 

Ul^on the cross shall deathless prove ! 

A Saviour's form shall burst the tomb ; 

A Saviour's cheer dispel the gloom ; 

A Saviour's Truth, preached far and wide. 

Shall heal all woes that now betide ; 

A Saviour's messengers shall go, 

'Neath tropic sun, o'er arctic snow, 

Till every race of living men 

Shall hear that Saviour s voice again. 

And following sound of that sweet word 
Another spirit's voice is heard 



THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESS. 368 

Wliicli shall go forth to East and West. 

To North and South at His behest, 

To bear His wondrous story on 

Wherever land or sea is known ; 

Wherever life glads this bright earth 

That spirit shall attest its worth. 

The king shall hear it on his throne, 

And laws shall breathe a milder tone ; 

The peasant's ear shall catch the note 

Tliat o'er his humble cot shall tioat, 

While in his heart a chord shall sing 

To tell of joy that sound doth bring ! 

The prisoner's soul shall bound with hope 

When it begins with wrong to cope ; 

And every phase of woman's woes. 

Throughout the world, where'er she goes, 

Shall learn to brighten 'neatli the ray 

This power shall shed upon her way, 

Till she shall grasji its lightning speed. 

And bid the hearts of millions read 

The story of her every wrong, 

In high -wrought tale or soulful song ; 

Till true men's hearts shall grow so great 

They'll crown with flowers her every fate, 

And bid her ransomed spirit rise 

With it and them towards yon bright skies ! 



364 CENTENNIAL HYMN. 

E'en lisping babes shall learn to know 
The power that cheers their mothers so ; 
While earth's exultant throngs shall bless 
The Heaven-sent Spirit of the Press. 



CENTENNIAL HYMN. 

( Luke 20 : 34-36.) 

Away "in the spirit" I flew 

To a mountain grand and high, 
Its base was the central spot of earth, 

Its dome reached to the sky ; 
And while the blest shimmering light, 

All fresh from the gates of heaven, 
Like diamonds bright flashed o'er that height 

A " vision " to me was given — 

It seemed that an angel's wand 

Waved o'er the magic scene. 
While the souls of men and women passed 

Along the Elysian green. 
I saw the faithful priest 

Bereft of his saintly gown, 
And without his robe of black and white. 

The rector of town. 



CENTENNIAL HYMN. 365 

Tlie Quaker too was there 

Without his broad-brimmed hat, 
And Churchmen, Methodists, were not known 

By prayer-book nor cravat. 
No fount nor stream was near 

The spot where the Baptist stood ; 
And the Presbyterian seemed to think 

To do is not all of good. 

A queen from the royal line 

Passed 'mid the mighty throng, 
While near, an orphan seamstress raised 

A sweet, unearthly song. 
Fine ladies thronged the spot. 

And washerwomen heard 
With a pealing shout of ecstasy 

The songstress' gladsome word ; 
While little children joined, 

Claj)ping their hands in glee. 

The mystic notes of the "newborn song," 

Whatever that song may be. 
Each soul took up its part. 

And sung with a hearty zest, 
As though its own peculiar strain 

Was the one it loved the best. 



366 REMORSE. 

Yet no discordant note 

Fell on my raptured ear, 
The harmony was all complete, 

The rhythm loud and clear. 

Before the angel's form 

I knelt in glad surprise, 
And asked what could the meaning be 

Of that song from out the skies, 
With the look of a deathless eye. 

And the wave of a deathless hand. 
He pointed to the ramparts high 

Of the far-off Better Land : 

" The e ye can never die, 
Titer e ne'er again can fall ; 

There ye are children of the sky 
For Jesus died for all." 



REMORSE. * 

The gaslights gleam with dazzling ray within the 
gilded halls 

Of city dwelling which arose with grand, impos- 
ing walls, 



* Written in reply to " Fallen," a poem which appeared during the war. 



REMORSE. 367 

And all that wealtfi and art could bring beneath 

that splendid dome, 
Was gathered there to beautify the millionaire's 

proud home. 
Physicians and attendants moved with careful, 

noiseless tread. 
Lest they should 'rouse him from short sleep 

whose soul had almost fled ; 
So deep the silence and profound, one's quickened 

ear might hear 
The stealthy sound of the Reaj^er's wings so sadly 

rustling near. 
But now he wakes ! A tortured look is in his 

blazing eye, 
His death-damp locks are wildly thrown back 

from his forehead high, 
His hands are clenched as though his strength 

might stay the stroke of death, 
While words of deepest agony come with each 

gasping breath : 
'•'' Ftti dying nolo ! The utmost skill of man is 

all in vain ; 
My princely means have lavished been to woo 

health back again. 
And yet within my sinking frame I feel the 

symptoms sure 



368 REMORSE. 

Which tell me sad existence here no longer can 
endure. 

! could I die without one thought of what my 

life has been, 

Could I from out these heart-strings tear remem 
brance of my sin, 

How glad my soul would flee away from this 
grief -laden breast, 

And seek the starry mansions where ' the weary 
are at rest.' 

But no ! it comes to haunt me now ! that dread- 
ful, wicked deed 

Which, long ago, bade heart so young and all so 
loving bleed ; 

1 hear them now — the broken tones of her deep 

agony, 
When on her bended knees she x-rayed that I 

would faithful be. 
O God ! my heart must then have been a heart of 

hardest stone, 
To trample on devotion that my treachery had 

won. 
To curse the love I dared to seek with every 

earthly wile, 
And spurn her from my presence then ; she 

%)leading all the while. 



REMORSE. 369 

The world was glad to welcome me with its cold, 

drear embrace, 
And scoffed the girl my lust betrayed from her 

accustomed place. 
And women smiled when I approached, as though 

my blood-stained hand 
Were worthy of the loveliest that e'er might 

grace the land. 
My comrades praised the manly ( ? ) skill with 

which I hid my shame. 
And bandied on their wanton lips my victim's 

beauteous name, 
And told of how her kindred sneered and drove 

her from lier home, 
A home to which an honored guest I still might 

dare to come ; 
For she was all too true to tell her base betrayer's 

name, 
And cherished with a woman's heart my proud 

and lofty fame, 
Exce})t in death, and then alone to her dear, dar- 
ling boy, 
She spoke of him — the midnight fiend — who 

sought her to destroy. 
They told me how our child had grown to look so 

much like me — 



370 REMORSE. 

Their wicked smiles, but half-concealed, I could 

so plainly see 
Because my heart, for once, beat true to duty 

and to right. 
And longed so much to bury all my boy's deep 

shame from sight. 
O crushing grief ! to love a child that may not 

even dare 
His father's smiles, his fond caress, nor even his 

name to share ; 
But deadlier still to know his heart must throb 

in manhood's years 
Responsive to the piercing cause of his dead 

mother's tears. 
And- hate the very name of him who called him 

into life — 

God ! I die ! I can not live with all this dread- 

ful strife 
Within my soul : I feel the pangs begun of end- 
less death, 

1 hear the scorpion's hissing tongue, I feel liis 

burning breath ; 
The ' worm that never dies ' has come to mock 

me in my woe, — 
She died forgiven — but, my God ! I dare not 

hope to go 



THE BLEST SURPRISE. 371 

Where blood-washed throngs of mortals and un- 
fa] len angels dwell — 

Vm lost to mercy! lost to Heaven! Dearth! O 
God! Farewell!'' 



THE BI.EST SURPRISE. 

(John 4 :5-26.) 

Softly the mild winds are blowing 
O'er far-famed Samaria's mount, 

Slowly a lone woman 's going, 
To drink at its crystnlline fount ; 

When lo ! there a stranger is sitting, 
All dressed in the garb of a Jew ; 

With courtesy Godhead liefitting 
He telleth her what slie must do. 

"But why dost thou ask of me water? 

For thy people deal not with mine." 
" If thou hadst but asked of me, daugliter, 

Blest draughts that are living were thine. 



372 THE BLEST SURPRTS:^. 

"All they who shall drink at this mountain 
Full often shall wish for it o'er ; 

But they who partake of Life's fountain 
Shall thirst not again evermore. 



5? 



" ! give me, I pray thee, this portion- 
This drink, that I never may roam, 

Sad, seeking forever new lotion — 
O ! give me to drink in my home ! 

" I see thou'rt a prophet, stranger ! 

And teach me the x^lace I must know 
"Our God is a Sxnrit, fair ranger ; 

hi, spirit and truth thou must go. 



11 



11 



' ' I know tliat Messias is coming. 
And he will tell all things to me " — 

Blest words through tlie long ages roaming — 
"Even I that am speaking am he ! '' 

Thus oft 'mid life's trials and duties. 

While far from the crowd we would flee. 
May we hear on Prayer's mount 'mid its 

beauties, 
" It is I that am speaking to thee ! " 



MY DREAM. 1^78 

MY DREAM.* 

I once had a beautiful dream : 
In the morning of life when my sx)irit was glad, 

And the world was a scene of bright bliss, 
I dreamed that I dwelt in a far-away si)here 

That was liapi)ier and lovelier than this ; 
There were angels with pinions that shone like 
the sun 
As they Hitted on missions of love, 
And the tones that they breathed were but echoes 
of strains 
That they chant in the mansions above. 

As I gazed, all delight, one sweet minstrel dis- 
cerned 

My form, ' mid her carols so blest, 
And she bore me aloft to a beautiful mount 

That the angels call 3fountaiit of Rest. 
It rose from a sea all so lovely and calm 

That its ripple was music's own flow, 
While the clouds that were hoveriu"; about it so 



grand 



Were c{ii)ped with bright sunshine and snow. 



♦when Mrs. BelvaA. L,ockwood,an eminent lawyer, applied to the United 
States Senate for proper authority to practice before the Supreme Court 
of the U. S., Senator L. Q- C. Lamar, of Mississippi, replied: " O Madami 
you shall have my support : I am in favor of woman's doing anything 
she can." Mrs. Lockwood's request was granted. 



374 MY DRBAM. 

There were birds and sweet flow' rets — and O! 
best of all ! 
There were mortals I knew in disguise ; 
For they seemed to be sprites, but I felt they were 
friends 
By the look of their soft beaming eyes. 
Each told of her hopes, of her joys, of her aims 

As though no intruder were nigh ; 
And I thought that the tone of their converse so 
sweet 
Must be borrowed from that of the sky. 

I listened: — "We've built us a home on this 
mount 

Where the world's deepest sorrows are past ; 
We've struggled full long, but fond hope buoyed 
us up. 

For we knew we would find it at last ! 
This region is called the Domain of the Mind, 

And its boundaries are broader than earth ; 
Here sex is unknown and all beings may win 

The tribute that's due to their worth." 

O ! how my heart bounded to think I had found 
The Eden of all my bright dreams. 

For the halo of Heaven was breathing around 
As I listened to all their blest themes. 



AN ALLEGORY. 375 

iVnd I thought to remain in that beautiful home — 

But O ! my deep sorrow to find 
It was only a dream that in slumber had come 

To tell of this Mount of the Mind. 

***** 

Two decades had passed — years of gladness and 
gloom, 
Years of Springtime, of Summer, of woe — 
Stern warfare had blighted our once happy land. 

And Winter had chilled its bright glow ; 
When one morning a letter from out the great 
Press, 
From a heart overflowing and kind, 
Jtevealed the grand truth that my dream was a 

fact^ 
And we"* d found the blest Mountain of Mind ! 



AN ALLEGORY. 

A farmer gayly plowed one day 
As morn had just begun, 
The dew-bathed flowers glowed like gems 
Beneath the rising sun ; 



376 AN ALLEGORY. 

While songster's note from neighboring 
hiU, 

In melody most clear, 
Like far-off strain of angel-band 

Fell on his raptured ear. 

But suddenly a sound so hoarse 

Was borne along the breeze, 
The bird was silenced in deep fright, 

Leaves trembled on the trees. 
A donkey on a neighboring farm 

Held forth in voice so loud. 
That e'en the steed that drew the plow 

His head in horror bowed. 
" Why do you sing? you useless thing! 

I'm sure the world would be 
.Much wiser and much happier, if 

From birds and insects free. 
/never speak but to command, 

My voice is always heard 
Both far and near throughout the land — 

Who listens to a Mrdl " 

Deep silence told the songster's grief 

At this strange, sad salute ; 
While hill, and vale, and forest rung 

In answer to the brute. 



THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 877 

At length, wlien eclio died away, 
The farmer reined his steed. 

To birds and beasts assembled there 
A homily to read : 

" But listen all to one grand truth- 
It is a simple thing — 

God made the donkey's mice to hray ; 
But made the hlrW s to sing.'''' 

A trill of gratitude so sweet 

Came trembling on the air. 
All Nature seemed to freshen up 

At melody so rare : 
The donkey crept back to his stall ; 

And when the day was done, 
Refreshed, by song the farmer f mind 

A double task he ' d done. 



THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.* 

What gift is this I see amid the throng 
That welcomes marriage with a festal song ? 
Is it a gem from out the boundless sea \ 
Is it a deed to mines that wealth may be ? 



* Among other and more costly bridal presents to a young couple was 
(framed and sent from a distance) a copy of the Ten Commandments. 



378 THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 

Is it a token of some artist's power 

To glad the eye and bless the bridal hour ? 

What is it, 'mid a scene so bright and fair, 

To call attention and transfix it there ? — 

It is a gift of other gifts the best ; 

List ye who will, unto its teachings blest : 



" Thou shaft no other gods before me have ; " 
To husband, wife, thou shalt not be a slave : 
No other love shall alienate thy vow ; 
One God Supreme, I claim thy homage now. 

II. 

"Naught in yon heaven above nor earth below, 
Save Me alone, shall your true worship know ; " 
No idol e'er shall take Jehovah's place. 
No sacrilege shall e'er your lives disgrace ; 
"For I, your God, will visit wrath upon 
Your children, and your every grandchild's son 
If you shall dare to hate Me : and I'll bless, 
' Mid times of gladness and of deep distress, 
The generations long to come of those 
Whose lives obedience and true love disclose." 



THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 379 



III. 



u 



Thou shalt not take thy Maker's name in vain ; ' " 
From all such guilty words thy lips restrain. 

IV. 

" Remember Sabbath-day, the day of rest : " 

It is the day of other days most blest — 

"None of thy household nor thy beasts may 

dare 
In all its hours their week-day work to share : " 
I rested on the Sabbath-day ; and call 
For strict obedience from my creatures all. 



Thy father and- thy mother honor well : 
The following this command is sweet to tell : 
Long life shall crown the duteous child who loves 
This i)recious word, and all its blessings proves. 

VI. 

''Thou shalt not kill:" thou canst not life re- 
store ; 

Hence guard thy wrath, and curb tliy hand the 
more. 



380 THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 

VII. 

"Thou slialt not rob thy consort of thy love," 
If thou wouldst have thy home blessed from 
above. 

VIII. 

"Thoii shalt not take what is not justly thine," 
Though by its gains thou shouldst a Croesus 
shine. 

IX. 

'' Thou shalt not speak what is not strictly true ; " 
'Tis duty to thyself-^and neighbor too. 

''Thou shalt not covet aught thy neighbor owns. 
His barn nor fields which with rich harvest 

groans, 
His loving wife, his house, his servants, beasts. 
His duteous children nor his gladsome feasts : " 
Look not on aught of his with evil eye, 
But be content to serve thy God Most High. 



THE BRAVE ENGINEER. 381 

THE BRAVE ENGINEER. 

When I stand at the station awaiting 
The steed that with nostrils of fire, 

Ablaze with his panting and puffing, 
In grandeur and pride draweth nigher, 
I scarce can refrain me from giving 

The brawny -armed hero a cheer, 

Who slackens his speed at his pleasure — 
God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 

And then, when he's ready, how grandly 

He tosses his rein to the breeze ; 
How proudly he starts on his journey — 

Away go the houses and trees ! 
Till his speed is itself an elixir 

For all in existence that' s drear ; 
And the man with the rein's the physician — 

God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 

When I sit in the car as it rushes 

Along through the forest and field, 
And think of the fate that would meet us 

If only one rail then should yield, 
While all on the train are conversing 

Without any feeling of fear, 
I think of whose hand bears us onwaixi — 

God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 



B82 THE BRAVE ENGINEER, 

How "Mars"* would have ceased from his 
labors, 

How "Jupiter" * wondered to know 
That in the Great West we would chain them 

To sweep o'er the mountains and snow ; 
As they counseled on far-famed Olympus 

They dreamed not the hour could draw near 
When a mortal should guide them on er- 
rands — 

God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 

One night as the darkness was deep'ning. 

And lightnings were flashing around. 
Our steed stopped afar from all dwellings. 

Afar from all aid and all sound : 
How quick every heart then was breathing 

A prayer for the one all so dear, 
That wisdom and strength, such as needed, 

Should bless him, the brave Engineer! 

We heard not a word of repining, 
Nor word that was sinful or sad ; 

He worked on the engine with courage. 
And soon every heart there was glad ; 



* Names of engines. 



THE BRAVE El^GINEER. 383 

For ere tlie black midnight had caught us, 

A whistle so cheerful and clear 
Was sounded, each soul but responded: 

God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 

He waits not for morning to gladden 
The earth with its sunshine and smile, 

At the post of his duty he's waiting 
To welcome the traveler the while ; 

And when all the city is sleeping 
He taketh his leave with a cheer, 

And out in the darkness he rushes- 
God bless him, the brave engineer ! 

Along through the valley and forest. 
And up o'er the mountain he Hies, 

Like a meteor when blazing with glory 
It sweeps through the star spangled skies; 

And not until ocean with ocean 
Has met in his wondrous career 

Does he Hag in his far-stretching journey- 
God bless him, the brave Engineer ! 

Nay, not there ! For but changing his courser, 

He starts on his mission again. 
He tosses the waves in his gladness, 

And dashes with speed o'er the main ; 



'AM DEEE CREEK IN NOVEMBER. 

The storm can not check him nor daunt him, 
He knows not the meaning of fear, 

For two worlds are both w^aiting to greet 
him — 
God bless him, the brave Engineer' 



DEER CREEK IN NOVEMBER. 

The wind sweeps by with softest kiss, 

The birds trill forth in vernal glee, 
All earth is clothed with Autumn hues 

So varied in their pageantry ; 
While " here and there " by winding stream 

Among the russet, yellow, brown. 
Some tree lifts up its deep green boughs, 

O'er all the scene a kingly crown. 

'Tis hard to tell wdiich is most fair. 
The dawn or death of Spring's bright bloom, 

So softly pensive is the air. 

So sweetly mellow its perfume ; 

The grazing herds almost dispel 

The thought that Winter's dreaded doom 



DEER CREEK IN NOVEMBER. 385 

Will soon sweep o'er the lovely scene, 
And close the tableau with its tomb. 

* * * * 

O ! Burns may sing of " Afton's" waves 

With all a poet's love of beauty ; 
The "Blue Danube" may still roll on, 

The hope of eastern wealth or booty ; 
Grand Mississippi's waves may lave 

A continent in all its glory, 
And give with its resistless surge 

Romance to many a sorrowing story : 

Yet far above them all I prize 

The stream that winds so gently, sweetly 
Amid our fields, and clothes them all 

III purest white so fully, neatly ; * 
Whose " banks and braes " are ever green, 

And vocal with the songsters' measures, 
While landscape lit for Raphael's touch 

Enhances all its rural pleasures. 
Were mine Ms genius, ere there comes 

A single blast of cold December, 
One glorious picture I would trace 

Of Deer Creek beauty in November ! 



*The most fertile cotton-lands in the world. 



386 THE MOCKING BIRD. 

TO A MOCKING BIRD 
That Sung Near My Window as I Pi^ayed. 

How sweet you sing my beauteous bird ! 

How joyous all your notes appear 
As twittering 'mong the leaves you' ve stirred, 

You i)our such music on my ear ! 
You must have thought that I was trying 
To stilie all your tender sighing 

To lover irr another tree ; 
For when I played you sung the louder, 
And shook your little form the prouder, • 

As if to say, "I'll silence thee ; '' 
Then poising plumes of lightest feather 
You and another chirp together ; 

And then you swiftly circle 'round 
The twig that constitutes you eyrie, 
While warbled notes so sweetly vary 

With every echoed songster-sound. 

I raise my fingers from the keys. 

Essay to answer you a note — 
And O ! what melodies are these 

That softly through my window float ! 
I would not cage such wondrous trilling. 
My heart-strings with its sound are thrilling ; 

But O ! my little warbler dear ! 



REMEMBRANCE. 887 

How I would love to claim dominion 
One moment o'er that pretty i)inion, 

And softly bind it to me here, 
Till I could place one kiss upon it, 
To let you know that I had won it ; 

Then willing yield the throat so fair 
Back to its native air of heaven, 
While to my heart a song was given 

To nestle sweetly ever there. 



REMEMBRANCE.* 

You once have told nie tliat you loved, 

You once besought an answering vow ; 
Your eyes affection's fervor proved, 

Y^our truth was written on your brow. 
And though the years have come aiid gone 

With many a change since that blest day, 
Its undimmed lustre S2)arkles on 

To gild with joy my lonely way. 

As"coux)led mountains by the sea 
Will stand in life-long silence there, 

While passing world may deem them free 
Of any link that both may share ; 



♦A purely imaginative reply to the " Last Look," a beautiful poem (by 
whom written I never knew) which appeared in Vicksburg Herald. 



388 KEMEMBRANCE. 

So, far beneath the surface-wave 

Society around us throws, 
A spell shall bind us to the grave. 

The strongest tie that either knows. 

As birds will come each vernal day 

To chirp around the old-time nest, 
And strive to wake some answering lay 

In memory-throated warbler's breast : 
So, in the years that come and go. 

Full oftentimes your heart will be 
Surcharged with all the tender flow 

Once breathing in each tone for me. 

You can not e'er forget that I 

Was once the dearest one to you 
Of all the world — my heart would die 

If it could not remember too : 
The pride of life, the glow of youth 

Were mantling on your gifted brow ; 
Your words were full of love and truth — 

You can't forget their meaning now. 

As blazing sun in Arctic skies 

Will flood the frozen sea with light 

Whose circling radiance never dies 

In si)here that can not know the night ; 



SNOW IN THE BALKANS. 389 

So o'er the past, the future too 
A deathless glorj^ e'er shall shine, 

Reflected from your love so true, 
To gladden this poor heart of mine. 

Go bravely on ! I would not bid 

You backward turn to look for me ; 
Kind hands can seal my coffin-lid, 

And you of all its care be free. 
But as you climb the mountain-height 

That leads to earthly fame and power, 
Within your heart forever bright 

Will be the memory of one hour. 



SNOW IN THE BALKANS.* 

" It is snowing in the Balkans ! " 

And the wind is i)iercing cold ; 
Still, O weary, weary soldiers ! 

Your position you must hold. 
Though the pestilence assails you, 

And an avalanche of snow ; 
If the royal lips command you. 

Onward ! onward you must go ! 



* It is snowing heavily in the Balkans, and it is believed the passes will 
be rendered impassable. — Constantinople dispatch during war in 1877. 



390 SNOW IN THE BALKANS. 

Though the tempest gather ' round yon, 

Though your frozen limbs shall fail, 
Though the morning-break shall find you 

Dead to duty, stiff and pale ; 
What is life to " common soldiers" 

But a toy for monarchs' play ! 
What if ne'er a glad to-morrow 

Dawns upon your dread to-day ! 

" It is snowing in the Balkans ! " — 

Long ago an army fled 
' Mid dark, frozen mountain-gorges. 

Counting thousands as its dead : 
Now I hear the lonely death-throbs 

Of tliat valiant drummer-child, 
As he vainly beat for succor 

' Mid the mountain scene so wild : 

And I think of all the mothers, 

Wives and little children too, 
Of the men who now are struggling — 

What, Heaven ! can these all do ! 
And I long to kneel before him, 

" Czar of all the Russias," till 
News of x^eace, sweet peace estal:)lished, 

Every waiting land shall fill. 



THE COUNCIL OF THE BIRDS. 391 

" It is snowing in the Balkans ! " 

Moslem, say yonr prayers to-night ! 
For a frozen chain shall bind yon 

Ere shall come the morning s light. 
Rnssian, battling for the Christian, 

Christians pray for yon to-night — 
"It is snowing in the Balkans " — 

Keej) your faith in Jesus hriglii ! 



THE COUNCIL OF THE BIRDS- AN ALLE- 
GORY. 

(John 14: 16, 17.) 

" Let's chain the Eagle down ! 

Wh-at right has he to soar 
Beyond the reach of other birds ? 

We ne'er may see him more. 

" ' Tis true his nature seems 

Akin to all that ' s grand, 
And good, and noble ; but he deigns 

The dwellers of this land. 



" Not that he's said a word 
TTiat we can understand ; 

But then he sings and soars aloft 
While we here listening stand. 



392 THE COUNCIL OF THE BIRDS. 

" Let's chain the Eagle down ! 

He's proud, and brave and free ; 
But should he reach his native skies 

He'd scorn such birds as we. 

" He's sorely wounded now 
In battling for our rights ; 

But we canH trust such worth as 7iis, 
To aid us in our fights. 

" For when the battle's o'er, 

And we the plunder gain 
He'll surely bid us take no more. 

While we can scarce refrain. 

" Like Paul of old ' he's drunk,' 
' Much learning makes him mad ' ; 

We'll decide his fate before he finds 
A single step we've made." 

They chained the Eagle down — 
They whom he deemed his friends — 

They sacrified that brave, true heart 
To serve their selfish ends. 

And thus a prisoner there 
He, dying, lived for years. 

Still pining for the pure, fresh air 
Of his own far off spheres. 



THE wife's request. 393 

True to the last he placed 

His chain 'neath wounded wine- • 

Nor told his foes his friends thus mocked 
His cruel suffering. 

Till death itself, a friend 

To one as lone as he, 
Came sweetly on to put an end 

To his captivity. 

But yet it still surmiies^ 

Thougli he is dead and gone; 
The principle for which he died 

Still lives and triumphs on. 



THE WIFE'S REQUEST. 

Love me for mine own sake ; 

For the love you bore 
When our lives with fond hopes 

Bright were gilded o'er ; 
When you won my young heart 

By your love for me — 
Love me for mine own sake, 

Love me earnestly. 



3ft4 BIRTH OF THE NEW SOUTH. 

Love me for thine own sake ; 

For thy manhood's trnth 
Pledged beside the altar 

In our halcyon youth ; 
That thy heart may Idossoin 

In a love so free, — 
Love me for thine own sake, 

Love me tenderly. 

Love me for our children's sake ; 

That their lives may be 
Blest with holy buds of hope, 

And with childhood's glee ; 
Then for our children's sake, 

If for nothing more, 
Love me while this life shall last, 

Love me evermore. 



BIRTH OF THE NEW SOUTH. 
(,Ps. 144:9-15.) 

On field of battle now prostrate 
The dear Old South was lying, 

While thousands wounded liy her side 
In agony were dying. 

Brave Lee and Longstreet knew her time 
For mortal strife was over ; 



BIKTH OP THE NEW SOUTH. 395 

But some, at this late hour, advised 

She'd yet become a rover 
To far-off Western plains, and there 

Display her gallant banner 
That never yet had paled or quailed 

At foeman's glad hosanna. 

" It can not be ! " she sadly said, 

" The life-tide sure is going — 
But in my veins another life 

Is sweetly, grandly flowing : 
To you, my faithful soldiery, 

I leave my precious burden — 
O ! teach my child that Honor's call 

Was e'er her mother's guerdon." 

She swooned away. And long tlie nigiit 

Through which those watchers waited 
Ere first faint gleam of morning came 

With fresh, new life full-freighted ; 
And Lee had laid him down to rest, 

Ere that sad watch was ended, 
But in his stead Lamar now stood. 

And the young babe befriended. 

She never knew— the fair young. South— 
The joy of mother-kisses ; 



396 BIRTH OF THE new south. 

That mother's life was given for liers ; 

Her welcome was loud hisses [birth 

From those who should have hailed her 

As some sweet star of heaven, 
But lent to earth to guide us where 

The manger-babe was given. 

Almost in vain Lamar's grand voice 

Besought her recognition ; 
Brave men and gifted women stood 

Aghast at her condition : 
They could not think a child so poor, 

So far from human splendor. 
Was destined yet to them and theirs 

A lofty fate to tender. 

Yet blest plebeian nurses came 

With offers of protection, 
To lift the babe from out distress, 

And soothe her deep dejection ; 
While in the Senate-chamber grand 

Her godfather still pleaded, 
Till friends sprung up all o'er the land 

For her who friends so needed. 

And as they enter her at school 
Behold the factories started ! 



BIRTH OF THE NEW SOUTH. 397 

Poor women, cliildren earn their bread, 

Erst almost broken-hearted ; 
While glad young girls and stout gallants 

Are tilling useful places, 
Who once had dreamed that manual toil 

Gentility disgraces. 

The looms hum loud, the wheels buzz fast 

Near many a goodly river, 
While great inventors stretch their hands 

The dear child to deliver 
From every fear of future want. 

From every dread disaster ; 
While ignorance and idleness 

But gladly flee the faster. 

O ! dear young South ! we hail the day 

That e'er thou wast delivered ; 
Though in the throes of mortal pain 

Thy mother's life-strings quivered : 
For braver man ne'er fell in war 

Than woman when slie dieth 
In agony like this, from which 

A fresh, new being crietb. 

Thou shalt reclaim us from our woes ; 
Tliou verily sliall lead us 



398 POESY. 

Beside blest streams in pastures green 
When God Himself shall feed us ! 

Thy strong right hand shall knead our 
lives 
With fortune's welcome leaven ; 

While with the other Thou shalt point 
Our wayward souls to Heaven. 



POBSY. 



Star of my night ! Sun of my sky ! 
When sorrow's wintry storms are nigh ; 
When o'er my quivering heart-strings bound 
Injustice' thunder's fearful sound ; 
When earth seems hell, and heaven seems hid 
Beneath some dear- loved coffin-lid — 
Lo ! thy sweet star doth trembling rise ; 
Thy radiance gilds the eastern skies. 

O God ! I thank Thee for the gift 
That can such mighty tempests lift 
And speed, afar. As sunshine melts 
The glacier that the mountain i)elts, 
And sends it bounding from its side 
To seek the mighty ocean wide ; 



PRAYER. 399 

So sorrow's gushing torrent leaves, 

At Thy command, the heart it grieves, 

To seek the ocean of Content, 

Where all the storms of life are spent ; 

While Hope's sweet rainbow springing there 

Forbids my life should e'er desi)air. 



PRAYER. 

O ! who can tell the wondrous power 
Of prayer upon the Godhead's worth? 

As well attempt to measure heaven 
By length, and breadth, and depth of earth. 

Far out at sea a vessel strove 

With driving wind and dashing wave, 
xA.Il human means of rescue fled, 

No mortal hand her crew could save. 
But high upon the foremost deck 

Was one — an humble sailor-boy — 
Whose life liad been an utter wreck 

But for the Christian's hoj)e and joy. 
He knelt amid the dreadful scene,' 

His valiant heart went forth in prayer — 
His life was lost — but morning found 

The ship within a haven fair ! 



1 I. Tim. 2 : 8. 



400 PRATER. 

A villain grasped an artless girl 

In quick and passionate embrace ; 
One moment more all had been lost 

Of human joy and noble place. 
Quick as the lightning leaps the sky ^ — 

Her heart sent forth one piteous fjeal 
To Jacob's God — He heard her cry, 

And stablished is her earthly weal. 

Dread Famine, Pestilence, and War 

Had blighted a once happy land, 
As charging coursers speed afar 

Upon their reckless journey grand. 
The nation prayed; His wrath was 
stayed;^ 

So soon ! so soon His anger gone. 
As darkness 'neatli the night's deep shade 

But flees before the break of dawn. 

A tiny waif — an orphan child — 
Was cast upon the beach of time, 

While angels watched the saddening scene 
From out their starry home sublime. 

One noble heart a shelter gave — 
To the poor outcast at his door — 



1 Eph. 6 : II-I8. 3 jas. 5 : 17, 18. 



PRAYER. 401 

The angels vowed in their sweet song 

That she should weep and want no more. 
Years sped ; the world was lighted up 

By dazzling glare of brilliant name, 
And monarchs smiled to find that child 

And gifted authoress the same. 
Before her birth her mother poured 

Her heart forth in petition grand 
That she should be in coming years 

A blessing to her native land. 
Thus God in His own mystic way 

Would prove to nations far and near 
Tliat earnest^ honest, heart-felt prayer 

His august Majesty will hear ! 

A hero in a foreign land 

Would teach the heathen heart to pray, 
While countless savages at hand 

His feeble, noble life would stay : 
He prays — the Spirit comes upon * 

Those cannibals in mighty power ; 
And length of days and honor grand 

Are his blest lot from that dread hour. 

My child was sinking ! Death's dark wings 
Had passed before my cottage door ; 

* Acts 5 : 1-5. 



402 PRAYER. 

Their shadow fell upon his face, 
I felt he would be mine no more ; 

With agonizing heart I cried s — 

" Si^are him, God ! this once ! " I prayed. 

An angel' s form was at my side, 
And the dread Reaper's hand was stayed. 

Another mother wept because 

Her darling lay in death's embrace, 
With spirit bowed in agony 

Before her lovely prattler's face. 
One heart- wrung prayer to "Zoye Him stilly 

The God who gave and took away''"' ;^ — 
And lo ! the message speeds from Heaven 

' ' You're douhly mine from, th is dark day. ' ' 
She looked again — the baby's face 

Was lighted with unearthly gleam. 
As visions of a heavenly home 

Will flash uj)on a Summer's dream. 
And thenceforth life but knows one path, 

That path the way to yon bright lieaven, 
And '''' Lo! I'm with you always e''en 

Unto the end,'''' is sweetly given. 

I stood beside cold Jordan's stream, 
Its stormy billows laved my feet, 



5 John 14 : 13. « Job i : 2i. 



PKAYER. 403 

While husband strong, and mother dear, 

And kindly friends, and children sweet 
Were there to say a last farewell, 

Ere forth I launched to come no more ; 
I almost glimpsed the City grand 

That stands upon the other shore, — 
An aged woman bowed in prayer, ^ 

With humble form, but faith sublime — 
The Reaper turned his waiting boat 

With helm toward the shore of Time ! 
The music of that far-off land ^ 

Was hushed uijon my listening ear ; 
The flash of bulwarks high and grand 

Receded from my vision near ; 
And yet I live — But ! tlie power 

Of God to cheer the vale of Death ; 
The matcliless majesty of prayer 

ril praise and sing while I have breath ! 

***** 

"Praise Him all nations" ! Bring the 
"harp," 9 

The "timbrel," and the " trumpet " grand. 
The "stringed instruments" of sound. 
The " organs " of each mighty land ; 



7 Rev. 8 : 3, 4. 8 Rev. 21 : 9-23, 9 Psalms 148, 149, 150. 



404 A SERMON FOR BOYS. 

The " cymbals," and the voices too 

Of aged men and women mild, 
Of youths and maidens, and the song 

Of e'en the timid, prattling child ! 
All things that " live and move, and have 

Their being " from this Gracious Hand 
Should peal one loud acclaim in praise 

Of all His mercies good and grand. 
With x^rayer and praise we'll spend our days 
Until beneath the noontide blaze 
Of endless glory we shall share 
The matchless benefits of Prayer ! 



A SERMON FOR BOYS. 



¥: 



Come boys, I will preach you a sermon : 

Whatever your hands find to do 
Go at it with vim, for a fortune 

Is waiting for all — not a few — 
If they'll only believe they can win it, 

And work with a hearty good- will ; 
God surely intended by labor 

Life's highest success to fulfill. 



* President-elect Garfield was once a hand on a canal-boat, and his 
wife a teacher in the public schools. Much of his success in life is attrib- 
uted to her influence over him..— Newspaper Correspondent. 



A SERMON FOE BOYS. 405 

You may think it is something degrading, 

But Adam was nearer a king 
When hrst from fair Eden ejected 

Than ages thereafter could bring ; 
And he was commanded to " laho7' " — 

It only develops a man, 
No matter how rich are his parents, 

Nor what for their boy is their plan. 

Don't think that a lady's " beneath ' ' you, 

Unworthy your noblest pursuit, 
Because in the school-room she teaches 

The brilliant young "idea to shoot " : 
They're all truly more or less gifted. 

All more or less moral and true ; 
And to win such as life-time companion 

Is well as the proudest can do. 

Or should you decide some fair maiden 

Who " helps" in the household so free. 
Could brighten your life in its sunshine, 

Or light in its shadow could be ; 
Don't think she's at all undeserving 

Because no hard duty she'll "shirk " ; 
Respect her and love her, and trust her 

But the more that she' s willing to work ! 



406 WELCOME OF KNIGHTS TEMPLAR. 

And when you are married, remember 

She is not your " underling," slave, 
But conqoanion in all your endeavors, 

And share in all honors should have : 
She will help you to climb up the ladder. 

She'll steady your brain when you're there 
And of virtues of both nobly mingled 

Will bring you full many an heir. 

Andrew Johnson was "small " till he married 

A wife who could help him ascend ; 
" Abe Lincoln " from humble " rail- splitter " 

A president rose to defend 
The rights of all beings. A woman 

Brought honor to Hayes' success ; 
And Garfield, and all my young readers 

May learn their examples to bless. 



WELCOME OF KNIGHTS TEMPLAR AT VICKS- 

BURG. 

In olden days of "Long Ago," 

When earth was not so fair 
In beauteous bloom of Christian faith, 

And error stalked forth there, 
A cry was heard throughout its realms 



WELCOME OF KNIGHTS TEMPLAK. 407 

That roused each sleeping lord ; 
And "Knights" sj)rimg forth from every 
clime, 
Each with his gleaming sword : 

' ' Ah ! we will wrench the ' Holy Land ' 

From touch of 'Infidel,' 
Our legions guarding it shall stand 

In bright, iinbroken spell. 
Till all the world shall own the i)ower 

That calls us forth to-day, 
In reminiscence of this hour, 

In token of this fray." 

The gallant " Knights" of present time 

Have vowed by the God above 
They'll seek the "Heroic City" now 

In cause of Truth and Love. 
No bitter tears from maiden's eyes 

Shall dim their gathering here : 
They each will greet with welcome sweet 

While in their home so dear ; 

And when disbanding they shall leave, 

No "Infidel" shall tear 
The ensigns of their conquering march 

From youthful spirits there. 



408 OUR FEDERAL DEAD. 

For while they haste so quick away 
From hills of "Palestine," 

Remembrance of their recent stay 
Shall with all heart-strings twine. 



OUR FEDERAL DEAD. 

Ye came in the strength of martial might 

To a far-off goodly land ; 
With costly armor burnished bright, 

Ye were a valiant band ! 
Your reveille so quick and glad 

Awoke each glistening glade ; 
While your sunset drum, more sweetly sad. 

Was Southland's serenade. 

Your warriors walked amid our homes, 

In all the pomp and pride 
That ever with the victor comes. 

His loved ones by his side ; 
While our poor starving heroes wept 

For country and for home ; 
Or, lorapped in lionor^ s colors slept 

Where sad defeats ne'er come. 



OUR FEDERAL DEAD. 409 

Great battles raged, brave warriors waged 

Their strength in deadly blows, 
While earth's deep wounds somewlmt as- 
suaged 

Grew pure 'neath Winter's snows. 
Spring came ; and o'er each soldier's grave. 

The Southron's, Northman's too, 
Her fairest flowers began to wave 

Beneath her skies so blue ; 

While 'mid them all the songster's plaint 

Came nestling low and sad. 
As though he feared 'neath such restraint 

To echo notes so glad — 
Peace sounded o'er a prostrate land, 

And armies passed afar ; 
But ye left the noblest of your band 

Beneath our evening star ! 

And shall we pass them coldly hy 

While nestling at our feet % 
Shall we refuse a heart-felt sigh 

For lives so grand, so fleet \— 
O God ! Thou know'st all things : what parts 

Man from his fellow-men ; 
But earth, and heaven, and human hearts 

All plead for love again. 



410 eakth's treasures. 

EARTH'S TREASURES. 

Thou' st treasures, O Earth ! 
Huge treasures of iron, of silver, of gold ; 
Great treasures of diamonds so bright to behold ; 
Vast treasures that glitter 'neatli ocean's salt 

waves, 
And shine where his foam-crest the land-margin 

laves ; 
Deep treasures of mountain, of river, of field — 
O ! when slialt thou half of these treasures all 

yield? 

But listen, O Earth ! 
Thou hast other treasures more valued than these. 
Blest treasures thtit angels delighted to please 
When softly they wandered from heaven's high 

walls. 
In sweet condescension to visit thy halls ; 
Loved treasures we prized in the days that are 

past ; 
To thy cheerless bosom those treasures are 

clasped. 

Restore them, O Earth ! 
But give me the father who joined in my glee 
When gladly I prattled upon his loved knee ; 



earth's treasures. 411 

But give me the brother whose loving blue eye 
E'er told in its glance that a true friend was nigh ; 
But give me the sister whose soul as my own 
By sweet sister sympathy ever was known ; 
But give me the mother you snatched from her 

home 
Ere loved ones who prized her around her could 

come ; 
But give me the darlings you took from my 

breast, 
Restore my dear treasures — and keep all the rest, 

Thou 'It yield them, O Earth ! 

When "trumpet" shall sound through thine ut- 
most great bound, 

And "thunders and lightnings" shall compass 
thee 'round ; 

When Judge shall arise from His throne in the 
skies, 

To rouse all the nations with awe and surprise ; 

When flames shall enfold all thy millions of 
gold. 

No longer poor Earth ! canst my treasures then 
hold; 

But yielding them there tliwjC It be doomed to 
despair, 

While they and I seek an existence more fair ! 



412 CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 

CI.OUDS AND SUNSHINE. 

CLOUDS. 

O ! I long ! I so long for the morning ! 

The morning of love and of light ; 
The morn that shall bring with its dawning 

A vision so j^eerless and bright 
Of a world that shall never know winter, 

Of a day that shall never know night, 
Of a trust that can know no betrayal, 

And a love that can never know blight. 

A rest in the grave all so quiet 

That even a king might be glad [ber — 

To exchange his proud throne for its slum- 

For royalty often is sad — 
Shall herald the break of that morning 

As watchmen the first gleam of day. 
When the sleeper shall rouse from his thrall- 
dom, 

To live and be happy alway. 

O ! the scene so enchantingly beauteous, 
To burst on the soul that is true ! 

O ! the bliss so exultingly rapturous 
In "heaven and earth that are new" ! 



CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 413 

I fear not the grasp of the "Monster" ; 

I dread not the grave with its night : 
For they — and they only — are portals 

To this vision of love and of light. 

December 26. 

SUNSHINE. 

The sun has burst from his mooring 

Behind a mass of cloud, 
And poured a flood of beauty 
Upon the earth's cold shroud, 
Which yester and this morning 

Had wrapped its mantle 'round 
Till ever J; house was laden. 
And every twig was bound. 

Thus on the soul that trusteth 

God's goodness bursts to view ; 
Tlius glorious floods of sunshine 

Gild lives that e' er are true ! 
For though dark clouds may gather. 

Their burdens to bestow, 
God) s never -failing Providence 

Makes beauteous e' en the snow. 

II o'clock New Year's Day. 



414 SONG FOR THE L. M. S. OF T. 

SONG FOR THE L. M. S. OF T.* 

" Lower Million Sons of Toil" ! 
Tliey who seek not party- sj^oil ; 
Tliey who scorn a deed of stealth 
While they build a nation's wealth. 

They who in their humble worth 
Delve the costliest gems of earth, 
That more favored hearts may plight 
Their true love with diamonds bright. 

They who dive low in the deep, 
While the angry billows sleep. 
Gathering pearls so glistening fair 
For blest Beauty' s braided hair ; 
While their own brave hearts may break 
For some humbler spirit's sake 
Scorning vows of love and joy 
Proffered by a sailor-boy. 

They who climb the loftiest height, 
Dazzling with its snow-crown bright. 
Ere the night can yield to morn, 
Hastening at the earliest dawn, 
That the great world's news may be 
Scattered far from sea to sea. 



* Written during their celebration of Washington's Birthday. 



SONG FOR THE L. M. S. OF T. 415 

They who pierce the blackest earth 
For the hidden coal-bed's worth, 
Making Winter warm and bright 
With the glowing anthracite ; 
Or who seek the deepest mine 
Where the glittering gold-veins shine, 
That the nations all may share 
Trophies of their conquests there. 

They who place the iron rail 
Whei-e all other nerves would fail, 
Held hy ropes to pick a track * 
On the rugged mountain^ s hack^ 
While the yawning rocks below 
Warn them e'er of fatal blow, 
Should one heedless step be made 
Where that iron road is laid ; 
That through time, a friendship blest 
May unite the East and West. 

They who guide the steamer's way 
As she sails by night or day 
O'er the stormy ocean' s wave, 
Threatened ever with a grave ; 
That the nations all may be 
Linked by commerce grand and free. 



* It is said this actually occurred during the building of the Railroad to 
the Pacific Coast. 



416 SONG FOE THE L. M. S. OF T. 

They who build our dwellings fair, 
That we home's true joys may share. 

They who drive our rustic plows 
By the "sweat" of honest "brows," 
Bidding earth her treasures give, 
That her countless hosts may live ; 
And who in their modest homes 
Welcome each who thither comes 
With a word of cheer for them 
Who such countless hardships stem. 

They who sound not war's alarms ; 
Yet who meet with outstretched arms 
Every conflict's deadliest fray ; 
And whose valor turns the day ; 
Courting death to grandly prove 
Worthy of the " land they love." 

They who guide the printing-ptress. 
With its mighty power to bless 
Every son's and daughter's heart, 
Justly prizing this great art, 
By which grand and noble deeds 
Minister to mortal's needs, 
And the True, the Good, the Right 
Are forever kept in sight. 



THE FATE OF GENIUS. 417 

Natal day of Washington, 
Who for us blest freedom won, 
Bring thou doubly welcome cheer 
In this great centennial year ! 
All ye noble Sons of Toil, 
Cease from labor's stern turmoil, 
Far and near throughout the land 
Gather in the ranks so grand, 
While a nation comes to pay 
Homage to your worth to-day ! 



THE FATE OF GENIUS. * 

" And thirteen cities claimed the Homer dead 
Through which the living Homer begged his bread." 

O Genius I mother of the world's "elect," 

How have thy children suffered in the years ! 
How have their richest offerings often brought 
The world bright honor — tliem deej:) sorrow's 
tears ! 
Yet, who of all thy offspring "weary, lone," 
Would barter off their mother's birthright 
given 



* We knew Mr. Russell well. There were few more gifted. But his 
gift was not of the sort that successfully struggles with this great matter- 
of-fact world. He was a poet— an almost inspired poet. — Vicksburg Herald. 



418 THE FATE OF GENIUS. 

For all the wealth of proudest earthly throne ? 
For anything above, beneath — save Heaven i 

***** 

In childhood's hours I almost wept to read 

Blind Homer's fate. And when, in after years, 

I followed Milton's verse, and sketched his life. 

So full of trial yet so grandly brave, 

I felt that I'd been walking 'mid the aisles 

Of some cathedral palace, where each thought 

Was sculj)tured in pure marble, fair and chaste. 

Almost enough to gild that City told 

In Revelation ! Sure such mortals link 

Their race to Grod's own throne ; and tliey shall be 

Rewarded in yon vast eternity 

Like John the Baptist — blest "forerunners" of 

That glorious morn when spirit shall be free. 

And Genius claim her rightful legacy ! 

We know not why she always suffers now : 
Enough to know 'tis part of God's great plan . 
Which made His Son a stifferer in thejlesli, 
Yet conquer w^ in the spirit of the loorld : 
Part of that "mystery" ne'er to be fully known 
Till Time is past. — Then, near His great white 
throne 



3IISSISSIPPI. 419 

May we not see them, Genius' children, stand 
As blest evangels in the Better Land ? 
One of the links in that bright spirit-chain 
Which through those endless ages shall remain, 
Binding immortals to their Father's throne ? 
Guiding the weaker where His ways are known ( 
Strengthening the souls tliat have not dared to 

climb 
So high in heavenly mysteries sublime ? 
Teaching the children how to sing His i^raise," 
By warbling forth their own celestial lays ? 
Aiding the youthful ' mid the glorious maze ? 
Joining the souls mature in works of love i 
Cheering the aged in their home above i 
Shining as "stars" in the firmament of God, 
They who "so weary and so lonely" here have 

trod ! * 



MISSISSIPPI. 

'Tis noontide hour. The blazing sunbeams fall 
O'er fields of waving grain ; while here and there. 
Within som^" lone and sweet, secluded dell, 
A farmer-boy enjoys his frugal fare. 
One has a piercing glance, a quiet mien — 

* Dan. 12 : 3. 



420 ■ MISSISSIPPI. 

The child of poverty and genius — 
While on his countenance high resolve is seen ; 
As light will dwell within the diamond's glow, 
Though it may lie the earth's deep crust below. 
His meal is finished ; 'twas a mother's care 
Prepared it ; and his heart is busy now 
Devising means to free her noble hands 
From toils for him — when lo! the scene is 
changed ! 

He stands within magnificent domain, 
That stretches far and wide around him, as 
The scene 'round Adam, when the angel showed 
Him grand transactions of the coming years ; 
While costly cities dot it with their domes 
As dew-drops beautify a full-blown rose : 
And man and beast are kindly dwelling there 
As erst before when Eden was so fair. 
A lovely woman— or an angel-form — 
With smiling countenance approaches him. 
And welcomes to her kingdom : ''These are mine; 
These splendid cities and these fertile fields 
All mine ! You are my noble workman, too ; 
Your name is on my chosen roll." She drew 
Two lengthy scrolls from resting-places; "See 
How just in all my deeds I love to be ! 



MISSISSIPPI. 4S1 

These are rny own dear children ; whom I love 
Where'er on earth their wandering footsteps rove ; 
They nestle safely in my mother-heart, 
No matter what in life their noble x^art. 
Adown the column I have placed your name ; 
For yours shall be earth's highest, truest fame, 
Not to descend from^ hut to found a race 
Beloved and honored in your natwe place. 
I bear these scrolls forever at my side, 
As wandering through my realms I pause to see 
Where'er a grand and lofty soul may be ; 
And place his name upon it quickly then. 
Lest it should be forgot, and lost again." 

" My noble sons who, long ago. 
Taught all the world my fame to know ; 
Where'er they be in distant land ; 
Where'er they sail on stormy strand ; 
Where'er within my own proud home 
Their honored footsteps go and come ; 
Where'er they lift a patriot voice, 
They bid my mother-hea: t rejoice ! 
They've saved my honor on the field 
Where other troops were known to yield ; 
They've bared their breasts to meet the storm 
That well-nigh crushed my prostrate form ; 



42'i MISSISSIPPI. 

They've soothed me in my deep distress ; 

My noble sons I e'er shall bless ! 

They've bid the Nation gladlj- hear 

Their gifted oratory dear ; 

My own dear sons have late nnfiirled 

My erst prond banner to the world, 

And Mississippi's voice again 

Shall not be raised nor heard in vain." 

' ' The other scroll has names of worthy ones 
Who seek me from afar ; and proving here 
Their manly worth, I claim as children dear. 
Here's Yerger, by his spotless ermine known ; 
Here's Prentiss with his almost angel-tongne ; ■ 
Here's Marshall with my daughter by his side, 
Who honored me when yielding him a bride ; 
And e'er has called to men ^Repent! believe ! ' 
Since first my precious gift he did receive. 
Here's Hooker with glad heart to point the word 
Of eloquence which liath my spirit cheered ; 
Here's Marshall with his wealth of legal lore, 
Who spies foul laws and quick reviews them o'er ; 
Here's Davis great, despite his sad defeat — 
Long ages hence he shall full justice meet — 
Remember what I' ve told you here to-daj^ ; 
Your's shall not be a fate obscure alway ; 



MISSISSIPPI. 423 

Your horoscope foretells night's almost gone, 
And heralds soon a brightly coming dawn." 
"I've been asleej) ! Ah! what a pleasant 

, dream ; 
And how refreshing did her converse seem ! " 

****** 

There comes a cry from Sunny Land 

For one to bear her ensign grand, 

WlK)se lofty soul hath never bowed 

To seek the plaudits of tlie crowd ; 

Whose heart is pure, and fresh, and young, 

And with true patriotism strung ; 

Who e'er will l)ear where'er he goes 

The love of friends, respect of foes ; 

One who in private life is known 

By manly deed and kindly tone ; 

One who has learned at Jesus' feet 

The meaning of that mandate sweet 

Which says, ' ' To others always do 

As you would have them act by you," 

And who, in daily life, doth share 

The blessings of fond heart-felt prayer 

From those beloved within his liome 

Who e'er rejoice to see him come. 



424 SOME DAY. 

He takes his place in Congress-halls, 
His voice is heard in its proud walls 
Reflecting honor on his State, 
And winning friends among the great. 
. But never in his triumphs there 
Does he forget the vision fair 
That first aroused his soul, in youth, 
For place of eminence and truth ; 
And with the genius latent there 
Then guided him to fate so fair. 



SOME DAY. 

Some day the morning's sun shall rise 

As beauteous as in years of yore ; 
Its glow sliall gild the eastern skies, 

But she I love will be no more. 
The birds will trill their gladsome lays. 

The fragrant flowers will sweetly bloom ; 
But she who blessed my infant-days 

Will sleep within the silent tomb. 

They'll smooth her braids of dark-brown hair. 
Or, if the brown should all be gone. 



SOME DAY. 



425 



They'll weave a crown of silver tliere 
Upon the brow so cold and lone. 

They'll place her hands— life's duties done— 
So calmly on her sleeping breast 

They'll typify that heaven is won 
While she on earth is taking rest. 

They'll bear her to the churchyard near, 

Where children long ago were laid, 
And close beside the forms so dear 

They'll gently place her 'neath the shade. 
But O ! that day, if it should come, 

To me would be so dark and drear 
I'll long to enter too her home, 

Her angel-welcome there to hear. 

For well I know fond hearts that stem 

This world, so true to God and Heaven 
Must have a home prepared for them ; 

Must have a crown unto them given. 
But should I leave first, mother dear ! * 

That life-eclipse I'll never know ; 
And these sad lines I'm tracing here 

May comfort on thy heart bestow. 



» Thirteen years after these lines were written, suddenly, after a day's 
illness, with a smile on her lips, she departed. 



420 THOUGHTS ON DEATH. 

THOUGHTS ON DEATH. 
( Ecci.ES. 12 : 6, 7.) 

Wlieii death shall set my spirit I'ree, 

All jaded from earth's strife, 
And ano-ol-wings are bearin<i^ me 

To home with blessings rife ; 
Who, who of all I've ever known 

Will clasp my clay-cold hand. 
And say "A noble sonl has gone 

To dwell in ' Better Land ' ? " 

Who'll shrond me for my last, lone rest 'i 

Who'll smooth my rumpled hair? 
Who'll place my hands upon my breast, 

With some sweet How'ret tliei-e ? 
Who'll press my cold and stonj^ lips 

With Love's last, fond caress ? 
Who'll drop a tear from heart's eclipse 

My waiting bier to bless ? 

Who'll read the Word of God to tell 

My pilgrimage is o'er? 
Who'll tune their voice to sweetly swell 

The song on Canaan's shore 



SONa OF THE SAINTED MOTHER. 427 

That, God be willing, saints shall raise 

When I have safely come, 
To joyous join them in His praise 

In that Eternal Home \ 



SONG OF THE SAINTED MOTHER. 

" O Mother ! art thou living y(t\., 
And dost thou still remember me ? " 

I live ! I have not human breath. 

Nor human hopes, nor human fears ; 
There is not known such word as death 

In all these grand, immortal spheres. 
The portal past my spirit sprung 

To higher life than earth could give. 
While Heaven itself in echo rung 

To the glad song, / I'me ! I Ime ! 

And yet I love the ones I left 

In that sad world that knows the grave, 
With love which only those bereft 

Can ever hope to know or have : 
With love which thrills a deathless frame 

In unison with heavenly power, 
And makes us love one all the same 

Each gladsome and immortal hour. 



4^8 "home, sweet home.'^ 

The warm-clasped hand, the burning kiss 

I gave you in your cradle- worth, 
The smile of sweet maternal bliss 

That blessed your sunny childhood's 
mirth 
Not now are yours — I come instead 

Within the chambers of your soul 
To whisper softly of the "dead " 

When waves of deepest anguish roll. 

I live — to cheer you in your gloom ; 

I live — to bless with spirit- prayer ; 
I live — to woo beyond the tomb 

Where life is all so fond and fair. 
I live — I love — for love is life. 

And life is love in this bright home — 
I live ! to soothe my darling's strife ; 

I love ! to bid my darling come. 



"HOME, SWEET HOME." 

Where falls the brightest sunlight 
In all the wide, wide world i 

Where bloom the 'loveliest flowerets 
That ever are unfurled (! 



THE editok's dream. 429 

Where breathe the softest zejihyrs 

That ever come to earth ? 
Where sing the sweetest songsters 

In all their Eden worth ? 

Where flow the dearest accents 

That ever greet our ears ? 
Where list we Heaven's own music 

To calm our spirits' fears ? 

Where shine the saintliest faces 

That ever we have known ? 
Where bloom the tenderest graces 

This side of Heaven' s high throne ? 

W/iere is the magic earth-spot 
Where all these blessings come ^ — 

O mortal ! think ; and thank your God 
It is your own dear home ! 



THE EDITOR'S DREAM. 

An editor sat with his swift-going pen 

So busy, he scarce had descried 
The postman, who entering threw down the mail, 

And hastened as quick from his side. 



430 THE editor's dream. 

But now it is finished— that "leader" so grand — 

To-morrow tlie people will heed 
His eloquent sentences rousing the land ; 

And now all the news he may read. 

But what means this missive so little and 
fair ?— 
" Fm young, poor, but gifted, and see, 
If only some paper will publish my thoughts, 

A life- time of honor for me." 
He could have consigned it right then to the 
flames, 
But, somehow, he dropped his quick eye. 
And just where the signature trembling was 
made 
A tear-stain he chanced to descry. 

I wanted to read ; but that letter has come 

To call my attention away : 
We've able contributors over the land, 

Nor care to hear aught she can say. 
He read of proud Emperors dwelling afar, 

Of President, Senators here ; 
While picnics, excursions, and j)olitics came 

To offer their portion of cheer. 



THE editok's dbeaat. 431 

He'd almost forgotten the i)oor orphan-girl — 

In a dream his remembrance was stirred : 
For Judgment had come ; and the JN^ations 
were there, 

Each mortal awaiting the word, 
Consigning his soul to a life time of bliss. 

Because of bright goal he had won ; 
Or dooming it sadder in that world than this, 

Because of the wrongs he had done. 

His turn came : the Judge with a quick, pierc- 
ing glance 

Assigned him to place on his left ; 
" You gave no cool ' water' to spirit athirst, 

No word to a being bereft 
Of all that could cheer her sad heart in the 
strife. 

With poverty, sorrow, and woe ; 
• Refusing to her you've refused it to we,' 

My Heaven you never can know." 

The next morning's mail bore a letter that said, 
•' We'll see can we furnish you aid : 

We've writers full plenty ; but should you 
succeed 
Your talents and time shall be paid." 



432 THE MAGIC PLEDGE. 

Five Summers had blossomed ; the public had 
learned 

To honor her once humble name — 
Ten more fleeted on : it had taken its place 

Among the proud writers of fame. 

Ten more had elapsed : he had given his time, 

His talents, his money, his all 
To 'stablish the paper whose purchaser now 

But gloated to know of his fall. 
A telegram came in his deepest distress 

That told of a woman who, dead, 
Had left him the fortune her pen had amassed^ 

" Because of his kindness,''^ she said. 



THE MAGIC PLEDGE. 

" Shall I give you a pledge ? " the warrior said, 

As he lifted the glowing cup ; 
" Shall I drink to your health ere my feet have 
sped, 

To warm all my life- current up : 
That never 'mid battles I'll pledging forget 
Till you are my own, or till life's sun is set ? " 



THE MAGIC PLEDGE. 483 

" No! pledge not for me in the red-tiowing wine, 

Its sting is the poison of death ; 
I'd liave naught unholy to seal you as mine, 

To madden your quick-going breath ; 
But let your heart, mind, from excitement be 

free 
Whenever you offer a life-pledge to me." 

"Sliall I give you a pledge V He lifted his hand 

To show her the jewels thereon, 
The brightest and richest of all in the land 

As dew-dro2)S when sunshine 's upon : 
" My love's like the glow of these diamonds so 

rare ; 
Then take this fond pledge that my life you 
will share." 

"O no! not with jewels, how bright though 
they be 
I'd bind you to words you have said ; 
No gifts that are gorgeous shall pledge you to 
me, 
No vows that are moneyed be made. 
I'd have something purer and fairer than this 
A token to mind me of life's future bliss." 



434 THE DYING MESSAGE. 

" Shall I give you a pledge ?" He culled a white 
flower 

That sweetly was blossoming there, 
And softly as love breathes in holiest hour 

He wove it in braids of her hair : 
" As pure as this bud, but more lasting by far, 
Is pledge that I make ere I go to the war." 

The morrow had come, and her lover had gone ; 

Day, night, slowly circled around ; 
She'd planted the bud at the earliest dawn. 

With tears had bedewed the loved ground — 
When lo! in the years a sweet shrub blos- 
somed there 
That gave when they wedded a wreath for her 
hair. 



THE DYING MESSAGE.* 

Now the aged hero's dying : on his glazing, earth- 
dimmed eye 

All the scenes of time have vanished, save the 
hours of battle-cry, 

When his valiant soldiers followed wheresoever 
he had led, 

■ • 

* Governor Huniphrie's last words, 



THE DYING MESSAGE, 435 

Whether to a glorious victory, or to sleep among 

the dead. 
While his soul is struggling, struggling with its 

last dread earthly foe. 
And the dawn of light eternal flashes on the 

scenes below; 
Ere the spirit leaps forever far beyond the bounds 

of time, 
And the surge of Death's cold river round him 

chants its awful chime, 
Waves he still — the dying patriot — high aloft his 

country's fame, 
'''■Son, when you shall meet my soldiers, speak to 

them, for me, by name.'''' 

***** 

O ! ye followers of that Captain who has gone so 

long before 
Through the direst earthly conHict to the shining 

Glory-shore, 
Hear ye not, tlirough His blest couriers, messages 

of purest love. 
As He now, with dying pathos, wooes you to His 

Home above ? 
See ye not His ensign gleaming o'er earth's every 

battle-Held, 



436 THE mother's choice. 

As He pleads by Life Eternal never to the foe to 

yield ; 
As through those He sends yon sonndeth now 

and evermore the same 
Blessed greeting, " Cowe, my solrliers ! I have 

called you each hy name.'''' 



THE MOTHER'S CHOICE. 

A mother sat in an easy-chair, 

A babe slept on her breast, 
Whose golden hair was shining fair 

As he smiled in evening rest. 
While moonbeams shone with mellow light 

As she sung a low, sweet song ; 
An angel gladdened at the sight, 

As it sped the earth along. 

''I've heard yonr voice so sweetly sad 

As you soothed your baby-boy ; 
Have come to make your spirit glad 

With i)romise of great joy : 
He shall be rich, if you desire ; 

Or he shall be most grand, 
With fame of martial deeds to blaze 

His prowess o'er the land. 



THE mother's choice. 487 

" Or lie shall have a poet's heart, 

With wealth of tender song ; 
Whichever of all these gifts j'ou wish 

To him shall sure belong. 
But 07ily one will I bestow ; 

Make choice of all the three — 
Wilt have him rich ? or warrior grand ( 

Or songster shall he be ? ' ' 

The mother thought one moment tlien 

Of joys that wealth may know, 
Remembered snares that gird the feet 

Of richest ones below ; 
She thought of how the warrior lives, 

With hands all stained with blood, 
And felt, if he were one, in peace 

He might not see his Grod. 

Just then a bird cooed from a tree, 

And answering songster poured 
A gush of sweetest melody 

As upward high he soared. 
The moonbeams quivered to the strain, 

And breeze crept softly by 
As though they longed to hear again 

That music from the skv. 



438 LINES. 

She was resolved — "O ! give him song 

To cheer the souls of men ; 
To tell them of fair Eden's joys, 

And woo them home again." 
In after years men saw the strength 

With which he met earth's strife, 
And marked the Christian fortitude 

Of his heroic life ; 

They did not know the angel's gift 

Had strung his soul for time 
In key of wondrous love and faith 

That echoed forth in rhyme. 
But ever as he sung sweet songs 

A heavenly voice would say, 
"That Sjjirit sure to us belongs, 

Will chant with us some day." 



LINES. 
Written Upon Passing My Old Home. 

Long years have llown, dear cottage ! 

Since last I gazed on thee ; 
And the sight has drawn sweet waters 

From the wells of memory. 



LINES. 439 

Though thy walls are torn and shattered, 

And thy portal gaping wide, 
'Twas there that I stood in gladness 

A young and happy bride. 

The Winter's day was cheerless, 

But my soul was filled with joj^ ; 
For I felt that life could offer 

No more of grief's alloy : 
For with one to love and cherish 

My orphan-heart, 'twould be 
Secure in that love forever, 

'Gainst all adversit3^ 

The Spring came forth in her beauty 

To gild that humble home. 
And the forest songsters, often, 

With their sweetest notes would come, 
To waken me in the morning 

At the earliest peep of dawn, 
And to trill forth the same sweet music 

When the day's last beams were gone. 

O ! I know that the angels hovered 
'Round that lowly, lovely spot ; 

For the tales that they whispered daily, 
Can never be forgot, 



440 INTERNATIONAL S. S. LESSONS. 

Of a home high \\p in heaven, 
Where such love shall ever bless 

The souls of the true and upright 
With perfect happiness. 

And I thanked Him in my gladness, 

For my cup of earthly bliss 
Was filled to overflowing — 

Could heart wish for more than this ? — 
But clouds sprung up in the distance, 

And sorrows have come full fast ; 
Yet I know that the same bright earth-love 

Shall be mine when this life is j^ast. 

'Tis a part of the deathless spirit, 

And its light shall brightly burn 
Till the Maker and the Giver 

Shall bid that soul return. 
Then true to God and Dutv, 

O fainting heart ! l^e brave. 
Till that love shall bloom in beauty 

In its home beyond the grave ! 

October, 1877. 



THE INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL 

LESSONS. 

So old, so new, the glorious truths we learn ! 
As if some man intent to gather wealth 



SONCI OF THE DYINU CHRISTIAN. 441 

Had wandered 'round the world in search of gokl ; 
While at his very door a precious mine 
Of diamond fialue had unnoticed lain ; 
Till, wearied with his fruitless search he comes 
Back to his home to die — then finds that there 
A fortune richer than famed India's wealth 
Is his but for the delving ! Precious truths ! 
That gleam and glisten 'neath our very eyes 
With radiance gathered since Creation's dawn, 
Prom home and "mansions" far beyond the 

skies — 
A radiance which shall but the brighter grow 
Till Time shall ii slier in the Eternal Dawn ! 



SONG OF THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 
Air : "Who will care for Mother now ? " 

Tell the world the war is over, 

Long we fought the deadly foe. 
Long we battled 'gainst his legions 

Ere we struck the final blow. 
Women — even little children — 

Joined us in the deadly fray, 
While old Satan's charging minions 

Pilled their souls with dread dismay. 



442 SONG OF THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 

But 'tis over ! One brave woman 

Stood before a battery masked ; 
While the shot and shell were flying, 

Only standing-room she asked. 
And, as if the Arch-fiend grudged her 

Place to keep within the fight, 
At her lone, unaided bosom 

Aimed he all his deadliest might. 

One brave boy was grandly struggling 

As his father called him off ; 
Told him : ^'' Let the Christians fight it ! " 

While the fiends did howl and scoff. 
Yet he stood there all undaunted — 

Heaven within his face and eye — 
Telling that it was a pleasure 

Like good Stephen thus to die. 

But 'tis o'er ! Our Captain led us 

'Mid the thickest of the fight ; 
All the world was backed against us 

As it charged with deadliest might. 
But He stood ! And calling round Him 

All the faithful of the earth, 
Proved the Sword of Truth triumphant. 

And proclaimed the Spirit's worth. 



EGBERT KELLY. 443 

Tell the world the war is over — 

O ! how grand it is to die 
In the service of Jehovah, 

With your Home and kindred nigh ! 
And while angel-pinions bear me 

To yon shore so bright and blest, 
Tell the world the war is over — 

And the Christian's gone to rest. 



ROBERT KEI.I.Y 
Of the Steamer GoivDEn City. 

Only an Engineer ! 

Who never quailed to fear. 
As clear and loud he gave the cry 
To startled pilot standing high, 

"For God's sake quickly land ! " 

Then in his courage grand, 
Stood like some hero sentinel 
His own bright, deathless fame to tell. 

Only an Engineer ! 

While flames are leaping near ; 
And maddened wild beasts plunge and tear* 
To break their furnace-cages there ; 



* A menagerie was aboard the boat when it was burned. 



444 EGBERT KELLY. 

And human beings sink 

Beneath the billows' brink, 
Whose deadly seething could not quell 
The heart of him who braved them well ! 

Only an Engineer ! 

God grant we all may hear, 
In thunder-tone from Great Unknown, 
The words forever now his own, 

'•''For God's sake quicMy land,'''' 

Ye who may doubting stand. 
While fires eternal blaze and leap 
Beside your almost fatal sleep. 

Only an Engineer ! 

In highest human si)here — 
T7i£ sphere that martyrs grandly find 
In nohly dying for their kind — 

His fame shall live and blaze ; 

While men shall speak his praise 
Along with his alike renowned, 
Montague, the Hero-Pilot crowned ! 

Only an Engineer ! 

High to the clouds let's rear 
A monument beside the waves 
Where both immortals found their graves; 



TO A FRIEND ON HER WEDDING DAY. 445 

Where men wlio dare to die 
For men, when danger's nigli, 
Shall wake in heaven to hnd their worth 
Forever blest and loved on earth ! 



TO A FRIEND ON HER WEDDING DAY. 

Tliis is the hour that binds your fate for life 
With brightest happiness or deepest strife ; 
That makes the maid a glad or wretched wife. 

O God ! Thou knowest all a maiden's thought 
Who yields her love to him who love hath 

sought : 
Thou know'st with what deep import it is 

fraught. 

Be Thou her stay, her Saviour, and her guide, 
Let no dark evil e'er her path betide 
Whose heart is bounding now a happy bride. 

Teach him to know Thy great, Thy perfect will ; 
To ''love, to honor, and to cherish" still ; 
For this alone hSr life with joy can fill. 

The love she gives no other heart hath given ; 
The vows she plights are sacred as is heaven ; 
Grant that those vows by no rude wrong be riven. 



446 A woman's platform. 

May liis strong breast a shelter ever be 

Where 'mid earth's storms her trembling heart 

may flee ; 
And bide secure till skies from clouds be free. 

May his fond love as brightest sunshine play 
Around her gladsome footsteps every day, 
Ennobling life with purest Joy alway. 

In such a fate there were no real pain, 

Earth, hell itself, might strive to snare in vain ; 

For life like this is Eden back again. 



A WOMAN'S PLATFORM. 

Written upon reading President Garfiei,d's Inaugu- 
ral Address. 

I know but little of politics. 

Of what a ' ' Democrat ' ' dreams ; 
Of what is meant by " Reimblican views," 

Or a " Readjuster's" schemes. 
But something happened the other day, 

Way off in Washington, 
That has reached the depths of my inmost 
heart, 

And my highest honor won. 



A woman's platform. 447 

A man who has riseu by hard-earned steps 

To the loftiest fate on earth, 
In the hour of triumph could not forget 

The being who gave him birth ; 
Nor the loving wife who has shared his toils 

For lo ! these many years ; 
And I think, and think on that act sublime 

Till my soul is steeped in tears ! 

Another thing he did that day 

That I love to think of too : 
He said that "Mormonism disgraced 

This country ' ' great to view ; 
That '" the fireside' s honor should be pre- 
served'''' 

By men throughout all this land — 
O son .! O father ! O husband true ! 

We honor your courage grand. 

May the God of your wife and mother give 

The grace that your soul shall need 
'Long the slipi^ery paths of official life, 

Your footstejjs to safely lead ; 
Till a Nation's heart all healed of its wounds 

Shall throb with a newborn joy. 
Because of a S'j)otless record won 

By the widow'' s noble boy ! 



448 TO A SEPTlTAGENARIATf. 



TO A SEPTUAGENARIAN.* 

From heart of miglity mountain 

A cooling stream gushed forth, 
As beauteous and refreshing 

As pringtime in the North ; 
And everywhere it wandered 

Bright beds of liow'rets grew, 
Like those that gladdened Eden 

When Paradise was new. 

Forever, ever onward 

Through passing years it Howed, 
And on each Aveary traveler 

A cooling draught bestowed ; 
Till all who heard its rii)ple 

Rejoiced to see its waves, 
As mourners welcome blossoms 

That deck their new-made graves. 

That mountain is the structure 

Of manhood's strength and power ; 

That stream's deep source is heart-wealth 
That constitutes its dower. 



*His loved and only child, after a happy life of more than fortj' years, 
preceded him to the grave. His devotion to her precious memory was 
beautiful and touching during the subsequent years of his own life. They 
have now met " to part no more forever." 



SONG OF THE SAINTED FATHER, 449 

That stream itself so cooling, 

Witli its elixir mild, 
Is a father'' s fond affection 

For a looed and only child! 



SONG OF THE SAINTED FATHER. 

In Repi,y to "Come O Father! Come and Brush my 

Tears Away." 

Yes, my darling ! I am coming ! I have heard 

your wailing voice, 
And I leave the glorious "mansions" where 

bright spirits e'er rejoice ; 
Turning earthward, now I haste me to revive my 

sorrowing (^liild. 
And a band of angels with me : we'll assuage her 

anguish wild. 

We were singing — O ! how sweetly ! in that 

" liouse not made with hands" ; 
For the music welled up joyous from a myriad 

seraph-bands, 
And the saints whom "tribulation" all had 

clothed in "robes of white," 
• Gladly joined the heavenly minstrels in their 

wondrous music-flight. 



450 SONG OF THE SAINTED FATHER. 

And while we were grandly sweeping through 

the sweetest of the song, 
While the gentle baby-voices that unto the choir 

belong, 
All were raising halleluiahs to the Glory-throne 

above. 
There was breathed a sign to check us in a tone 

of wondrous love. 

Leaning from his high position, towards the sta- 
tion that I lilled, 

Jesus spoke in tone so loving that his audience 
vast was thrilled 

Into silent acquiescence as He breathed that pre- 
cious voice : 

" Go unto thy sorrowing dauf/hter ! Go^ and hid 
her heart rejoiced 

Quick the angels gathered 'round me with their 

sympathy and cheer. 
Quick we left the glorious "mansions" now to 

all so doubly dear ; 
And we heard a heavenly anthem as we passed 

the pearly gate : 
" See how Jesus loves the beings that doth in His 

presence wait !" 



THANKS. 451 

We are coming ! Haste to meet ns ! In tlie quiet 

of your room, 
In the day time or the niglit-time we can chase 

away all gloom ; 
For in Icjving, pitying kindness we will gather 

'round you there, 
And sweet comfort hriny ijotur spirit as you kneel 

hi secret pray err. 



THANKS.* 

You may talk of the joys 

Of girls or of boys. 
As they "frolic" in youth-time so gay, 

Wherever they range, 

In the dance or "the grange " 
To chase the glad moments away. 

But there is a bliss 

Suj^erior to this — 
At least it appears so to me— 

When wearied with strife 

I'd rest me of life. 
And genuine pleasure would see. 



•Written upon receiving many newspapers from various editors and 
friends. 



452 THANKS. 

I ask not for wine. 
Nor dollars that shine 

With their glittering worth ever new; 
Nor for fashion and show, 
Nor for diamonds that glow 

On lingers of hearts that are true. 

I ask not for wealth — 

But grant me good health, 
And something that's useful to do ; 

And for my relief 

In moments of grief 
But give me a paper or two ! 

On the wings of the Press, 
Which the land so doth bless, 

I can rise from the dej)tlis of despair, 
And traverse the world, 
Where'er truth is unfurled. 

And bask in an ecstasy there. 

Can dive in the sea 

Where treasures may be ; 
Or sail in the stately balloon : 

Can measure each star, 

As it twinkles afar. 
And talk with the " man in the moon." 



^HAT^KS. 453 

Can float on the cloud, 

As its dark folds enshroud 
The mountains below with deep gloom ; 

And peep into heaven, 

By converse thus given. 
While earth seems awaiting a toml). 

Can rise with the dawn. 
Ere the first lark has gone, 

And welcome the "King of the day" 
As his chariot sweeps up 
From the ocean's deep cup, 

And floods with bright sunshine the way. 

Can stand near the throne 

Of monarch that's known 
For power and regal estate ; 

And hear what he says 

Of the world and its ways, 
As though 1 myself was as great. 

Can list to the flow 

Of sonnets that go 
Like the chanting of angels to me ; 

While my heart can but beat 

In unison sweet 
W^ith the rhyme and the rhythm so free. 



454 THANKS. 

Can visit the cot 

On poorest town-lot, 
And talk Avitli the occupants there, 

Whose portals ne'er greet 

The blest welcome feet 
Of hearts that are gladsome and fair. 

Can go in the homes 
Where virtue ne'er comes, 

And weep with the inmates who there, 
'Neath the sorrows of earth, 
Msij never know mirth. 

Enchained to their woe and despair. 

Can enter the cell 

Where murderer may dwell, 

And whisper of home in the skies ; 
While without, on the street. 
The drum-call may beat 

That closes in death his sad eyes. 

Can cross the far strand 

Of dark heathen land, 
And list to the sweet Gospel song 

Of lips that can tell 

In anthems so well . 
The joys that to missions belong. 



GROWING OLD. 455 

Then thank you kind friends ! 

Each person who sends 
Your columns the post-office tlirough ; 

And may you ne'er know, 

While on earth here below, 
The want of a paper or two. 



GROWING OIvD. 

" I'm growing old ! " The first white line 

Is mingled with my auburn hair ; 
It came an unexpected guest, 

I had not thought to find it there. 
And yet it seems a beauteous thing — 

This gleaming thread of silver light- 
It brings no sadness to my heart, 

Nor shadows one loved dream so bright. 

" Fm growing old ! " Upon my brow 

Are traces of the lingering years ; 
Within my heart are many scars 

Occasioned by deep sorrows' tears : 
r ve wept o'er many a treaclierous wile 

Where I had hoped for love and truth ; 
I've seen the fondest hopes decay 

That flashed upon my sun^y youth. 



456 GROWING OLD. 

And yet I grieve not : for I know 

That which, on earth, is termed ^'old age'''' 
But ushers the immortal soul 

Upon a nobler, grander stage 
Of being, where its embryo worth 

Shall glow and glisten ' neath the gleam 
Of God's own eye as diamonds blaze, 

And sparkle 'neath the sun's bright 
beam ! 

"I'm growing old ! " The dreams of youth 

Are but sweet memories of the past ; 
Yet their undying faith and truth 

Must be my own while life shall last. 
For as I grow serenly old 
The mellow tints those dreams unfold 
Shall come like soft ?eolian strain 
To bathe my heart with youth again. 

"I'm growing old!" The "flood of tears," 
Sad fruitage of my "golden j^ears," 
Comes not because of wrongs I've done, 
Comes not because no goal I've won — 
It covies because God wills it so ; 
In heaven above the lohy I'll know — 
And, while I weep the "clay-cold real,'- 
My soul is cheered by bright ideal. 



GROWING OLD. 4f)7 

My cherished har^^ still loves to sing 
The dreams that only youth can bring ; 
And though a " melancholy moan " 
May mingle with its tender tone, 
1 could not — loould not hush the spell 
That lingers in its mournful swell ; 
For as heart-echoes sweep along, 
My soul ilies upward in a song. 



" I'm growing old ! " " Hope's weary dove 
Hath found a land of changeless love ! 
A land so bright in Summer's glow ; 
A land so free from Winter's snow ; 
A land no sorrow's flood can reach ; 
A land too bright for pen or speech — 
In that blest land she builds her home, 
Hence in this world no more can roam. 

Yet ere she left for tliat bright shore, 
One "branch of olive-green" she bore 
On treml)ling wing to my sad heart, 
To tell me of the "better part 
Wliich she hath chosen "—and I wait 
Until some hour, whether soon or late, 
When I shall gladly wing rtTy flight 
To that far home so blest and bright. 



■>■) 



458 IIEART-BREATHINGS. 



a T'l 



I'm growing old ! " Nay, growing young ! 
The dreams I once in rapture snng. 
The hopes th:it clustered 'round my way 
Shall cheer me still when I :im gray. 
Even death itself can bring no gloom ; 
For life "sxn-ings smiling from the tomb " ; 
And in yon world of Love and Truth 
Blest spirits e'er renew their j^outh ! 



HEART-BREATHINGS. 
A Welcome for Miss Wili^ard to Mississippi, in 1889. 

Our Queen is coming ! Southland, wave 

Your sweetest welcome on the breeze ; 
Let blooming ilowers and singing birds, 

And lowliest shrubs, and loftiest trees 
Proclaim throughout your vast domain 

A march triumphal, for her car 
Who comes again to cheer our homes 

With kindliest V)lessings from afar. 

" The world her parisli /" and all hearts 
The altar where her incense burns ; 

A host of sympathetic friends 

Shall spring where'er her pathway turns. 



HEART-BREATIIINGS. 459 

O ! grandest thought of this grarul age : 
" The world one famil}- " *— while she. 

Its vestal virgin-sacrifice, 
Lives only for humanity ! 

Her woman's heart might, long ago. 

Have built a home of love for her ; 
But who else on this world had hoped 

Such myriad blessings to confer'^ 
So turning from the siren notes 

Of love, and home, and children's glee, 
The bridegroom voice of Clirist she hears, 

A mother for the world to be ! 

And far o'er lands, and high o'er seas 

Her flag of pure devotion flies. 
Where'er a sound can catch the breeze, 

Or faintest colors paint the skies : 
Her faith the talismanic wand 

That turns the dross of human hearts 
To purest gold, and in each home 

A train of new conditions starts. 

Earth's grandest monarchs on their thrones 
Shall note the voice of " prairie-girl" ; 



' Miss WiUard's owu idea and expression. 



460 HEART-BREATHINGS. 

The lowliest liuts in western wilds 
Their humble welcome shall nnfurl ; 

And women's hearts shall learn to sing 
A glad "new song" where'er she goes ; 

While onward, onward evermore 
A stream of purity o'erflows. 

As Miriam, "Prophetess" of old, 

As "Deborah, the Judge" Avas great; 
As Ruth and Esther live fore' er. 

As Hannah made great Samuel's fate ; 
So with x^rophetic ken, conceived 

Through faith and trust in God alone. 
Our nineteenth-century-Prophetess 

Shall live where'er earth's history's known. 

And as " the seas embrace all lands," 

And as "the skies embrace all seas," 
So shall lier faith encompass earth 

With beams from which all darkness flees. 
Then in the twilight of that morn 

Triumphant notes from every home 
Shall usher in Millennial dawn 

With glad acclaim, "Thy Kingdom's 
Come!" 



SONG FOR THE Y. W. C. T. U. 461 

SONG FOR THE Y. W. C. T. U. 
On Miss WiIvLard's Fiftieth Birthday. 
They are gathering in their beauty, 

The girls of every State ; 
They're weaving now a chaplet 

For her we deem so great : 
With smiles and jjleasant faces 

They place it on her brow — 
O ! peerless Frances Willard, 

Thou'rt more than empress now ! 

They're gathering in their valor, 

The strong, true hearts and brave. 
Determined to do battle 

Their Native Land to save 
From curse and woe of whisky. 

From slavery to sin — 
O nations ! was such army 

Before e'er mustered in ^ 

They're gathering in their virtue, 

The loveliest ever borne 
By noble mothers : on each breast 

A pure white ribbon's worn ; 

The badge of "Christian Womanhood," 
It yet shall bind the world, 



462 DOM PEDRO. 

The sweetest farf for " home and heamn''^ 
That eoer was unfurled! 

The knights who followed Peter 

To save a Saviour's tomb 
Were not more true and steadfast 

Than these maidens in tlieir bloom ; 
For they come to pay their homage 

Unto a risen Lord ; 
And high among the nations 

To raise His written Word ! 

a 

Then loveliest of " Crusaders ' 

We bid you all " God speed," 
Who ('ome from princely dwellings. 

Who come from homes of need : 
You're all the sceptered ''daugliters 

Of the Great and only King " ; 
And a Pentecostal blessing 

On America von' 11 bring. 



DOM PEDRO AT THE GRAVE OF WASHING- 
TON.* 

Pedro ! In thy distant home 

1 know that thoughts will ofttimes come, 



* " I,ong and reverently— with iincovered head— he gazed upon the 
tomb of the ' Father of his Country !' "—To abdicate a lluonc, as he has 
since done in Brazil, /o> the good of his fieop/e, is far more grand and sub- 
lime than to have founded one. 



SONG FOR MISS BELLE KEARNEY. 463 

In tliy brave toil, in thy sweet rest, 

Of grave upon Virginia's breast 

Where sleeps the Hero of the West ; 

The matchless man who lived and died 

A Nation's guardian and her pride ! 

If thou art true to lesson taught 

By mound with so much meaning fraught ; 

If thou art good, as well as great, 

Brazil shall rise to higher state 

Among the nations, and at home, 

That to his grave thy stejjs have come. 

We bid thee welcome to our shores ! 

Whose manhood's spirit grandly soars 

Beyond the empty show of kings. 

And solace to that manhood brings, 

In hopes and dreams of future years, 

When each glad nation's song shall.be : 

" Like proud Colum])ia, we are free ! " 

June, 1876. 



SONG FOR MISS BELLE KEARNEY 

Of thk Mississippi Y. W. C. T. U. 

All honor to her, our brave Southern girl. 
Who, shunning the follies of fashion's gay whirl, 



464 SONG FOR MISS BELLE KEARNEY. 

Devotes tlie blest hours of the morn of her life 
To the service of God 'gainst the Demon of Strife. 

As David went forth in the strength of the Lord 

To battle, sustained alone by His word ; 

So Belle Kearney enlists in the bloom of her 

youth 
To fight for her Country — its honor and truth. 

Then come every maiden ! and join hand to hand 
This valiant crusader — and the forthcoming band 
Of women who serve in tlie ranks of the Lord 
Shall kill old " Goliath" and brandish his sword. 

The strong sword of Justice shall slay Giant 

Drink, 
From whom Israel's army now seemeth to shrink ; 
In the hands of our Davids shall cut off his head, 
And the maidens tO victory most glorious be led. 

Then sing ye, O sing ye, a song in her praise ! 
May the God of our Country prolong her blest 

days. 
Till the Demon of Drink shall as swift llee away 
As the mists of the twilight at dawning of day. 



IN MEMORIAM. 465 

IN MKMORIAM. 
Victor Elgin.* Aged Two Years. 

•' A picture hangs on Memory's wall," 

A picture of beauty rare ; 
Witli its violet eyes and forehead grand, 

And its carls of amber hair. 
With its rosebud lips so full of life, 

And its cheeks of sunset hue ; 
And its neck and arms like the petals soft 

Of a jessamine bathed in dew. 
O ! if earth could throw such a charm around 

A mortal frail as he, 
What must be the exquisite grace that crowns 

His form, that tlie angels see ! 

His voice was as sweet as the ring-dove's when 

She calls her love to rest ; 
And his smile was as bright as the sunbeams 

are 
When they shine on the mountain's crest. 

If earthly atmosphere could bring 
Such sounds when he spoke in glee, 

How must the far-oif welkin ring 
With his seraph minstrelsy ! 



* One of the loveliest children, in person and disposition, ever lent to 
earth. 



466 TO LOUCILE AND EVA. 

O father ! mother ! woukl you call 

That child from his home of bliss 
To wander again amid the scenes 

Of a sorrowful world like this ? — 
Be still my heart — I hear the song 

He is wafting from yon shore, 
As his little hands sweep o'er his harp 

" Fm hlest foreoermore ! " 



TO IvOUCILE AND EVA. 

Written Upon Passing the Presbyterian Parsonage at 
Edwards, Miss., RIarch 15, 1887. 

Dark Winter now has passed away, 

And the sweet Springtime come apace. 
With blooming flowers and singing birds 

' That greet me in accustomed place : 
While o'er the landscape far and near, 

Like sense of joy at earliest dawn, 
When night is past, comes spirit-cheer — 
Where 7iane the little children gone f 

I walk beside their former home, 
I gaze upon its close-locked door ; 

Its windows drawn, its yard bereft 
Of what so gladdened it before : 



TO LOUCILE AND EVA. 467 

In fancy I can almost see 

Tlie baby-carriag-e on the Itiwn, 
With little Eva seated there— 

But ! tJiose looely ones haoe (/one ! 

I liear the twitter of the birds, 

I see the budding of the leaves, 
As with their own soft music -words 
. The warblers tiit about the eaves. 
I strive to catch a kindred tone 

That lingers in my heart forlorn ; 
To clasD the forms once have kno .\ n — 

■ft. 

Bid ! the darlings both ha»e gone ! 

Loucile^ with curls all floating- fair 

Like some blest wood-nymph sweetly clad, 
While little Eca nestles there 

With look to make an angel glad. 
The one so blithe, and gay, and free ; 

The other gentle as a fawn. 
With eyes so sweet entrancing me — 

But ! my darlings noio are gone ! 

Remember, Love, the promise given, * 
That, when you kneel in humble i)i'iiy«r, 



* Though but a small child, Loucile voluntarily promised that when 
removed to her father's distant field of labor, in another State, " she would 
pray for me every evening." 



468 IN MEMORY OF LITTLE HAREY. 

You'll not forget the one so riven 

From all its tenderest loved one's care : 
When earth and sky are sweetly still, 
And towards the stars your spirit's drawn, 
. That promise then for me fulfill — 
A nd r 11 for (let that you are gone ! 



IN MEMORY OF UTTLE HARRY. 
Aged One Year Six Months Twenty-Two Days. 

No more my neighbor's little boy. 
Across the street, shall come and go 

With pattering feet within the yard 
To greet the friends who loved him so. 

N(j more his little form shall kneel, 
At family prayer, amid the band 

Who even in his baby ears 
Had whisi)ered of the "Better Land.' 

No more his little hands be clasped. 
And head be bowed above the board 

Where, daily, blessings thrice were asked 
Of His good grace whom they adored. 



THE STINO OF POVERTY. 4G9 

No more tliat little A^oice shall join 
In song of mother-hearl:, as when 

The "Are joii ready?" hymn he lisped 
With her — Alt ! ht was '•'■ ready'" tJwn ! 

A few more days, that form was stilled, 
Those feet were stayed, that voice was 
dumb ; 

An nngel-band had left yon heaven. 
And, hastening earthward, bid him come. 

And yet he has not lived in vain ; 

Tlie "little preacher" dwells on high. 
With spirit-form and seraph- voice 

To woo his lo\ed ones to the sky. 



THK STING OF POVERTY. 

Tis not a meager fare of " herbs,'' 

Nor dress of jilainest style ; 
'Tis not in work the poor i)ei'form 

With willing hands the while : 
For a noble heart may throb beneath 

The " homespun " clotlies so rude ; 
And a conscience free of sin's remorse 

May sweeten scantiest food. 



470 THE STING OF POVERTY. 

But 'tis the heartless look of scorn, 

The ill-bred stare of eyes 
Which seem to say, that one should live 

Is matter of surprise. 
'Tis words of hautenr and contempt 

ToAvards those deserving love, 
That make the poor man's poverty 

As keenest dagger prove. 

I've known a purse-proud child to stand 

From aged pair aloof, 
Whose very presence blessings brought 

Beneath her father's roof. 
Years passed away — her wealth had llown 

Into a stranger's hand ; 
While gray-haired sire and dame had gone 

To dwell in Better Land. 

Fresh from the mazes of the dance 

The "Reaper " called her liome ; 
A short half-day of agony, 

And parting hour had come. 
T paused beside her new-made grave — 

She died in bloom of youth — 
And prayed that (rod would give me strength 

To honor worth and truth. 



A PLEA FOR PROHIBITION. 471 



A PLEA FOR PROHIBITION. 

Intemperance is a National curse ; and no true patriot can 
be indifferent to its evils. There are in the United States one 
hundred and sixty-six thousand saloon-keepers, costing the 
country seven hundred million dollars ! The cost of liquor for 
each inhabitant is seventeen dollars, vv'hile oul}' two dollars a 
head is paid for education." * 

Down the dim and distant ages, 

From the far-off Galilee 
Comes a voice to wisest sages : 
" Point the yonng men unto Me ! 
Mine, a life of abnegation, 

They may follow if they will ; 
Purest joy in every station 

Shall my followers' lives instill." 

% -St * * 

O ! the deadly curse of drinking ! 

O ! the hearts no more to beat ! 
Just because our men, unthinking, 

Nurse this viper at their feet. 
'Round its dens our Imbes are prattling. 

Near its haunts our boys are seen. 
While our young men reel and stagger 

Prom its fangs upon the green. 



♦ Since this was written the drink bill of the United States has increased 
to nine hundred millions dollars anniiallv. 



472 A PLEA FOR PROHIBITION. 

Murder, rapine, and disaster 
Follow quirk within its train, 

While a thirst, of hell begotten. 
Fast a nation's treasures drains. 

(rray-haired victims who are trembling 
On the brink of graves to-day. 

With a solemn visage ask you, 

" Shall the deadly serpent stay V 

Shall we linger to discuss it ( 

Shall we longer bear its woe ( 
Shall we yield our loved ones hand-cuffed 

Over to their deadliest foe i 
Or, shall every fatlier, mother. 

Everj^ brother, sister, friend. 
Wife and child to Heaven appealing 

Swear its bondage now shall end ? 

In the Senate, Mississipi)i 

Stands acknowledged well to-day ; 
In the House she has bright laurels 

That upon her brow shall stay. 
In the pulpit she has heroes 

Who might vie with Paul in zeal ; 
In her homes unnumbered warriors 

Who ne'er knew the fear of steel. 



A PLEA FOR PPvOTIIBITION. 47o 

Shall the sons of sires thus noble 

Fall beneath a tja-ant's call 
Who requires for his dominion 

Body, mind and. spirit all ? 
Or, like those who won our freedom. 

Will you sign for them to-da3% 
All, " your lives and sacred honor '' 

That the demon shall away ? 

Think of Prentiss, (jeniiis-freifflded, 

Child of anti-liquor Maine, 
By the ^ovtliern w ine-cwp fated — 

Can you from this pledge refrain '. 
Stand beside his grave untimely— 

Think if he had been your boj^ 
And a "Yankee" curse had slain him. 

Could you e'er again know joy \ — 
There are thousand boys now like him 

Looking to your deeds to-day — 
Vote for Prohibition ! Save them ! 

Save them ! save them while you may. 



474 PRAYER. 



PRAYER. 



We are tauglit in Revelation that there are 
two spirits abroad in the earth ; the Spirit of 
God, or of Truth, and the spirit of Evil. Each 
has its i:)eculiar mode of coninmnicating with the 
soul of man, each strives to influence him towards 
its own legitimate course of action, while he re- 
mains a ' ' free agent ' ' to choose between the two, 
and thus to decide, not only his spiritual status 
for life, but also his destiny for eternity. Prayer 
is God\s own appointed means for converse with 
man. It is to the spiritual kingdom of Christ, — 
which St. Paul says is "righteousness, and peace, 
and joy in the Holy Ghost" — what the law of 
gravitation is to the natural universe. It links 
the soul of the remotest believer in antiquity, as 
as well as that of the most distant inhabitant of 
Christendom, to Christ, the Great Central Sun of 
the Christian system, as effectually as gravitation 
holds the planets in their various revolutions 
around the sun, or systems' of worlds in their 
grand, celestial march around their one great, 
central orb. And as this law of gravitation not 



» An essay written by request, and read before a public assembly at an 
educational institution. 



PRAYER. 475 

only holds worlds in their places, but also all oV)- 
jects upon these worlds each to its own place, 
thus properly adjusting creation, as it were, in 
the scales of tlie universe ; so prayer, perme- 
ating every fiber of Christ's spiritual kingdom, 
keeps it closely allied to the throne of God. It 
is the magic telegraph connecting earth with 
heaven ; for 'tis only in response to sincere, heart- 
felt prayer that the great miracle of conversion 
ever occurs. ' Twas in consequence of neglecting 
this mode of communication that the antedilu- 
vian world was forsaken of God ; and in answer 
to this that Noah was instructed to build the ark, 
and j)ei'initted to save a remnant of the human 
race. And when the earth shall again be 
destroyed, when the "elements shall melt with 
fervent heat," 

And the heavens, "like to a scroll," 
Angel-hands away shall roll, 

through the influences of prayer alone and its 
effects upon the hearts and lives of believers, 
shall they be si)ared the universal wreck, and 
allowed to rise with joy and gladness to meet 
Christ at His second (doming. 

But 'tis not only in such grand occurrences as 



476 PRAYER. 

these that Prayer exerts its inestimable influence. 
There is not a human bein<i;, however liumble, 
tliat may not, throngh its. instrumentality, be- 
come a fit companion of angels. There's not a 
Avinter's hour, however darlv and drear, that may 
not, by use of this wonderful kaleidoscope, ap- 
pear bright and beautiful. Tliere's not a heart, 
however oppressed with gloom or shrouded with 
disappointment, that may not, by quaffing this 
celestial elixir, be fllled with joy unspeakable 
and full of glory. Tliere's not a hearthstone, 
however overshadowed with eartlfs wrongs or 
sorrows, that may not, by the use of this magic 
antidote, become the very "gateway of heaven." 
It is the joy of tlie believer, and the only hope of 
the sinner ! It is the anchor of the soul amid the 
confusion of warring elements and earthly storms, 
and brings a "peace that passeth understanding " 
amid the serenity of the happiest earthly lot ! 
It is the inspiration of the Christian statesman, 
and the solace of the wrongly incarcerated j^ris- 
oner. It has enabled martyrs to "die at the 
stake," and nerved "Stonewall Jackson" to ex- 
hibit such intrexiid heroism and heaven-taught 
patriotism as have enlisted the admiiation of the 
civilized world ! It upholds the living in the 



PRAYER. 477 

pursuit of the most arduous duties, and comforts 
the dying in the last painful moments of dissolu- 
tion. It transfers the causes of eaitli into the 
court-room of heaven, and tliere, in the [)resenoe 
•of the Great Judge of the universe, it pleads 
with an eloquence scarcely appreciated by angels, 
for the downtrodden and the oppressed, for the 
"widow and the orphan," for the poor and 
needy — loliile the loicJced lowld stands hy and, 
wonders that they live ! It has saved doomed 
cities from destruction, and converted weeping 
eyes into " windows of heaven," It prevents the 
earth from becoming an universal scene of violence 
and bloodshed, and one vast charnel luntse of the 
spirlt'iLally dead. During the terrible agonies 
of Getlisemane the divine lips of our Saviour 
moved in prayer to God the Father — and lo ! 
angels are at his side strengthening him for the 
awfully sublime tragedy of the Cross. 

When earth is clothed in vernal beauty, its 
every shrub and flower but joying in existence, 
forget not to pray. When Suninier brings its 
fruits, and Autumn its harvests, forget not to 
pray. When Winter wakes its great wind-harp, 
thus appealing to the inmost recesses and emo- 
tions of the soul, forget not to pray. When hard 



478 PRAYER. 

lessons are to be prex)ared, and the mind realizes 
'tis wandering from duty, concentrate it by 
prayer. When harsh words have been spoken, 
and the heart is almost broken, heal it with 
prayer. When kind words have been uttered, 
and life seems all glorious, hallow it with x^rayer. 
Wiien sorrows almost crush your soul, or honors 
elate, X)reserve your equilibrium by i)rayer. 
When the young bride leaves her father's house, 
to enter that of a comx^arative stranger, give 
costly gifts if you wish, but O ! be very careful 
to bless her new-found x^athway with the inesti- 
mable treasury of x^rayer. When a babe enters 
the household, amid the joy and confusion of 
that coming, welcome its advent with x^i'^yt^r. 
When the young man bids adieu to the X)arental 
roof, to embark alone on the treacherous sea of 
financial affairs, steady his hand and head with 
the sedative of x^rayer. When death claims your 
loved ones, go with them, through prayer, to the 
very threshold of heaven, and there intrust them 
to His keeping who has x^romised to hear and 
answer those x^rayers. When friends are removed 
far away, where the hand, the voice, or the x>c^n 
of kindness may no longer reach them, aid them, 
advance their sx)iritual interests in Christ's king- 



THE DYING SOLDIER. 479 

dom by prayer. When leaving home for a dis- 
tant school, or school for lionie, begin your 
journey with prayer. When the minister 
preaches the wo d of salvation, seal it to your 
own eternal good by apx^reciative i)rayer. And, 
finally, when earth is receding from our view, 
and heaven approaching nearer ; when life and 
death seem i^oised upon the issue of a moment, 
and sympathizing angels are witnessing your last 
great struggle upon earth ; ere the soul takes its 
everlasting flight, buoy its waiting wings with 
prayer, that it may safely and speedily soar into 
the regions of Eternal Bliss. 



THE DYING SOLDIER.* 

'Tis night in the quiet hospital of Culpeper 
Court House. Gentle slumber has closed the 
eyes of hundreds of suffering soldiers who only 
sleep to dream of loved ones in their far-off 
homes. But there is one, a youthful, beardless 
boy, who can not sleep. For days he liad lan- 



* Our darling brother — a luember of the Eighteenth Regiment of Mis- 
sissippi Volunteers— died at Culpeper Court House, Va., about 5 o'clock in 
the afternoon, July 28, 1861 ; aged eighteen years and four months, having 
been prostrated by measles and typhoid fever combined, before he had 
participated in a single battle. A nd there he still sleeps. May angels guard 
his precious dust ! 



480 THE DYING SOLDIEE. 

guislied on a soldier's bed in camp ; yet, not until 
the telegraph, in solemn warning, announced, 
" Your son is very low— measles and bronchitis : 
meet him at Culpei)er," was he aware that dis- 
ease had indeed hxed upon his vitals. And she 
was coming ! The same winged messenger had 
announced her due on the next dav's train, and 
told lier — alas ! the deceptive character of dis- 
ease — that he was '•'hetter.^'' Slowly the silent 
watches of the night- wane away. Starliglit 
merges into morn, morning into noon, and the 
train has come. Each has been warned by sym- 
pathizing friends of the dangerous tendency of 
excitement at meeting ; and each, with Spartan- 
like tirnmess, is endeavoring to stay the tide of 
feeling. But the heart must have some outlet 
for its pent-up fullness ; and again, and again 
the mother's form is bent to receive the caresses 
of his father's only boy ! Again, and again ex- 
liressions of fondest, unextinguishable love well 
up from the heart of the dying child to her who 
had been from infaiK-y his only guide and pro- 
tector : and wlien he spoke of life 'twas only for 
the hope that he might become the stay of her 
declining years. 

Mental happiness triumphs for awhile o'er 



THE DYING SOLDIER. 481 

physical prostration, and they who have nursed 
and tended him deem him better. The chilly 
coldness, the fevered flush, the sometimes almost 
susi)ended breath tell but too plainly of the 
progress of disease. Yet there are times when 
hope still whispers to the mother's heart, "^e 
will recocer, for he has been worse^ And then 
she'd talk of military glory and earthly renown. 
But these are barren themes. The noble, manly 
spirit that once dwelt with enthusiasm on the 
exploits of Hannibal, or kindled with new life at 
the story of the "Mill-boy of the Slashes" now 
turns to home and the loved ones there, or, with 
all the earnestness of its nature, Axes upon Jesus 
and the Cross. ' Tis evening's quiet, holy hour. 
They have been conversing of the plan of salva- 
tion through faith in Christ. There is silence for 
a time — and then 'tis broken by the calm, clear 
voice of the child exclaiming in tones of heartfelt 
happiness "/ trust in God!'''' There was no 
rustling of wings, no beaming of celestial light 
'round about the place ; but the angel of Mercy 
had been there bearing to the re^jentant soul 
unmistakable evidence of its acceptance with 
God. 

Moraing again breaks o'er the land, and the 



482 THE DYING SOLDIER. 

gray-haired minister of God is at the bedside. 
O! how truly estimable, how devoted to the 
mission of the Gospel, how worthy of the religion 
which he professed mnst have been the man who, 
though comparatively a stranger, could win from 
the heart of dying youth the voluntary appella- 
tion of " my father ! " accompanied by manifes- 
tations of affection corresponding to so endearing 
a name ! And when the last great day shall 
come, when the men of God are surrounded by 
their spiritual children, will not the young Mis- 
sissippian be there again to embrace and to bless 
him whom he regarded as the instrument of his 
salvation ? 

Evening again throws its gentle shadows o'er 
the earth. The mother, together with those who, 
won by his youthful ai)i)earance and gentlemanly 
deportment, had, previous to her arrival, minis- 
tered to his comfort with maternal and sisterly 
devotion are gathered 'round his bed. The 
Lord's Prayer is repeated in the same deep manly 
tone with which he was wont to declaim before 
his teachers in other days — and then a voice 
rose clear and sweet, tuned to the soul-inspiring 
hymn, "How lirm a Foundation." ' Twas the 
song of one who had long ago quaffed from the 



PAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 483 

same rich fount of heavenly love of which he had 
so lately tasted, of one who had watched beside 
him as a sister, and who felt that soon his hnppy 
sx)irit would realize the truth of the precious 
promises therein contained. It fell upon the 
heart of the dying boy like the gentle dews of 
heaven upon the leaves of the newly opened 
flower ere one dark, earthly stain has been fixed 
upon their purity. And when evening had come 
again, when the messenger from the eternal world 
summoned him into the presence of his Maker, 
clasj^ed in the arms of her who bore him, with a 
kiss for each of the "loved ones at home" upon 
his brow, without a murmur or a struggle, the 
spirit of him, around whom clustered the fond 
aspiratio s of mother and sisters, who had been 
a willing sacrifice to his country's cause, yet 
whose hands were still unimbued even with the 
blood of oi:)posing soldiery, winged its way to an 
eternity of bliss. 



PAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 

'Tis usual to appeal, to the past for exanix)les 
of greatness and goodness. Nor would we de- 
tract from the well- merited, the richly deserved 
tribute of praise Justly accorded those ancient 



484 PAST AND PKESENT HEROISM. 

worthies. But in our admiration for tliem we 
would not forget the heroes and heroines of the 
present day. For why does history record or 
poetry embalm instances of past heroism, if not 
to insi)ire a noble emulation of such deathless 
deeds in the warm, true hearts of the living? 
While Plutarch has enshrined the memory of the 
immortal heroes of Greece and Rome, the press 
of the nineteenth century is occasionally illumi- 
nated l)y the glaring splendor of lives as magnan- 
imous and deaths as daring as are any of those 
recorded by him. We hold that the beautiful 
story of Penelope' s fidelity to Ulysses has been 
more than equaled by the unswerving loyalty, 
the heroic devotion of Lady Franklin in spend- 
ing the residue of her life and her fortune in 
fruitless attempts to solve tlie mystery of the 
long-continued absence of her loved husband — 
Sir John Franklin —in the frozen regions of the 
Arctic Zone, And had she lived in ancient times 
we dare say the x>oet or novelist of the present 
day would wish no nobler theme for his verse or 
his story than that furnished by her. Socrates is 
ever quoted as an example of sublimest living- 
virtue and dying heroism. But how luxurious 
seems his fate, surrounded as he was in death by 



PAST AISTD PRESENT HEROISM. 48.^ 

sympathizing friends and relatives, to that of the 
immortal southern hero, Joseph Fry! Could 
anything human be more heroic, more giand and 
pathetic, more sublime and majestic than the cir- 
cumstances attending his death ? Nay ! 'twas not 
death ; but merely the exchange of a few remain- 
ing years upon earth for an immortality as 
lasting as time itself. Leonidas, with three 
hundred brave Spartans, defended the narrow 
pass upon the possession of which depended the 
lives and liberties of his countrymen. The eyes 
of all Greece were upon him. A nation's grati- 
tude and posterity's praise would be liis if he 
turned aside the victorious march of theinvadM'; 
while everlasting infamy and disgrace were no 
less sure should he retreat. There was everj'- 
tliing to gain or to lose by the issue, every con- 
sideration to inspire martial courage in the high- 
est degree. But when a poor and comparatively 
unknown pilot on the Mississippi river, wlien 
repeatedly warned, as his vessel is burning, that 
he must inevitably be lost if he does not desert 
the blazing wheel, gives utterance to the sul)lime 
words, ' ' Til hold kar till she strikes the shore ! ' ' 
and remaining at the fatal post of duty till she 
lands, and all others are saved — then sinks into 



486 PAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 

the waves a burning, crisping, but glorified mass 
of humanity, rather than one other life should 
be lost, we claim that the heroism of Leonidas 
dwindles into insignificance compared to his. 
And were the treasury of the United States our 
own, and we the leading sj^irit of this great Re- 
public, we 'd rear, with the voluntary mite-offer- 
ings of a reunited i^eople, beside the great 
"Father of Waters " a lighthouse to his memory 
which should rival the Colossus of Rhodes : and 
there, night and day, as palatial steamers swept 
by, the eyes of crews and passengers should 
moisten with emotion, and their hearts thrill 
with gratitude as they beheld this just tribute to 
him, who willingly died that others might live ; 
and babes should learn to lisp as waves loved to 
repeat the imperishable fame of him whose name 
should be thereon inscribed — the immoi'tal name 
of Montague ! We read of the exalted virtue of 
the Roman matron, Cornelia, and our hearts 
throb in admii-ation thereof. But can history 
produce a more striking instance of sublime 
human disinterestedness than that of the brave 
woman who, after having nursed the sick and 
wounded soldiers amid all the horrors consequent 
upon the Franco-German war, when, afterwards, 



PAST ATfD PRESENT HEROISM. 487 

led forth for execution by order of members of 
"the Commune," refused to recognize, in her 
lonely maich towards death, the friendly face 
and voice of a former beneficiary of her labors, lest 
he, too, slioukl tliereby share her terrible fate? 
O earth ! thou art groaning on thy axle in con- 
sequence of the wrongs inflicted l)y man upon his 
fellow-men ! No wonder that great songster 
across tlie waters, Swinlmrne, in his love for the 
human race, yet ignoring the only panacea for 
their manifold moral evils— the religion of a cru- 
cified Redeemer— re fuses to be comforted : and in 
the anguish of his great poet-heart, sobs forth 
such wailing accents against the inhumanity of 
the nations that the civilized world pauses to 
listen ; while the student of Revelation but sees, 
in both liim and them, a verification of the Apos- 
tle's sul^lime, mt^taphorical truism:* " For we 
know til at the whole creation groanetli and 
travaileth in pain together until now. And not 
only they, but ourselves also, which have the 
first fruits of the Spirit, even we oui*selves groan 
wit i in ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to- 
wit^ the redemption of our body.''- 



* Rom. 8 : 22, 23. 



488 PAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 

In the "dark ages" men and women died at 
the stake rather than relinquish their religion 
and with it their hoi)es of heaven. In the nine- 
teenth century many a poor washerwoman saves 
the pittance of her hard-earned wages for a brutal 
and intoxicated husband, while kindred, friends, 
and acquaintances urge her to desist, and dies a 
slow, but no less sure victim of his perjury and 
treachery, a martyr for the principles' sake, 
rather than desert the man she has promised be- 
fore God and man " to love, honor, and obey." 

In the days of chivalry brave-hearted women 
girded swords on their lovers, and sent them 
forth with prayers and blessings to battle in de- 
fense of their own rights or to avenge their 
wrongs. About the year 1850 a noble school 
teacher from the North is wooed by a warm- 
hearted Southerner — her complement in intellect- 
ual and moral worth — and, together, they leave 
"home, kindred, lands," everything for the 
Mastefs sake, and cheerfully go forth to rear the 
standard of the Cross in the then almost impene- 
trable-to-Christian-civilization land of China. In 
1875, leaving her husband to guard the outpost 
of duty there, Mrs. Lambuth returns to America 
to visit her son, then being educated for a similar 



PAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 489 

fate to his father's ; sees lier mother die ; travels 
in behalf of her mission field, and then returns, 
it may be, to " sleep her last sleep " in that far-off 
heathen land ! And shall we then say we have 
no living heroes and heroines ? 

In the days of Angustns, when Italy had been 
desolated by war, to revive agriculture and the 
material interests of the Empire, Virgil was 
induced to enqjloy his gifted pen in the composi- 
tion of the "Georgics" ; and thus by the per- 
suasive eloquence of song to inspire fresh hopes 
in the hearts of his countrymen. During the 
last twenty-five years a small band of noble men, 
assisted and cheered, it is said, by the indefatiga- 
ble labors of a like noble woman, determined to 
rebuild the shattered fabric of the Republic of 
America through a similar effort. The result of 
their counsels and endeavors was the organiza- 
tion of the "Patrons of Husbandry." And they 
so far improved upon their precedent- example as 
to welcome the aid of woman in their sublime 
undertaking. Yea! while "wars and rumors of 
wars " were filling the ears of the world, they had 
the moral courage to prove, by admitting her to 
their ranks, that, on the whole, civilization f's ad- 
vancing, and 'tis really true, as the jDreaclier 



490 PAST AND PRESENT HEROISlVt. 

asserts, that "Christianity has made woman the 
social and spiritual eqnal of man." And the re- 
sult of this brave recognition of a divine truth, 
in the sight of a sneering and gainsaying world, 
has been to enlist the women and children, more 
than one half of our great population, in behalf 
of their cause ; and thus in the home-circle, as 
well as in the political arena, to sow the seeds of 
that unity of heart, and purpose, and iiope and 
feeling which shall yet luring forth Columbia puri- 
fied and refined from the great crucible of the 
late Civil War, and present her to the nations 
the model government of the civilized world. 

But there is another example of present hero- 
ism in this age that surpasses any history ever 
cited ; an example calculated to rouse both Chris- 
tian and heathen lands to the practical impor- 
tance of morally sul)linie enterprise, and by jts 
accumulated force on the hearts of others to 
grandly hasten the coming of Christ's kingdom 
upon earth. We refer to the unparalleled career 
of our illustrious countrywoman — Miss Frances 
E. Willard. God prepared the way for her use- 
fulness by giving her a. pure, able, good father 
and one of the noldest of mothers, a mother who 
lived close to His own great heart while she en- 



iPAST AND PRESENT HEROISM. 491 

cleavored to follow the leadings of His grace and 
His providence in the rearing of her children. 
Well has that mother said, " motherhood is life's 
richest and most delicious romance," and well 
did she, by attending mothers' monthly meetings, 
and by all other means in her power, strive to 
prepare herself to train her "young immortals" 
aright. Thus it is that now, with the glory of 
eighty-five years crowning her honored head, she 
can say, ' ' I thank God that He ever said to me, 
' Bring up this child in the love of humanity and 
in the expectation of immortal life.' " And, no 
doubt, had it not been for this remarkable mother 
there never could have been the more remarkable 
daughter: it was simply a case of "evolution" 
according to Crod'splan, not Mr. Darwin's. 

So conscientious was Mrs. Willard, that, when 
her daughter arrived at maturity, she allowed 
her to select her own course in life without oppo- 
sition or censure, even when her judgment would 
have dictated very 'differently : she did all she 
could to develop the especial indimduality of 
her child— and behold the result ! A woman who 
has done more to soothe broken hearts, to reno- 
vate ruined homes, and restore humanity to its 
better conditions than any monarch the world has 



492 PAST AND PRESENT HEROtSM. 

ever seen ! At tlie wave of her magic wand over 
the hearts of men, they listen to her sweet plead- 
ings of Gospel truths ; and listening, tliink ; and 
then resolve that, "bj" God's grace," they will 
become "new creatures/' Thence immediately 
spring up purer homes and liappier hearts. In 
her Christlike mission she stoops to the low 
plane of "fallen women," whispers words of 
consolation and hope for them — and lo ! the}^, 
even they, gladly and gratefully arise to pure 
lives. what a lesson for Christian woman- 
hood the entire earth over ! And she a maiden, 
too : how Christlike ! She simply adapts the 
teachings of our blessed Saviour while upon 
earth to the present conditions of the physical 
and moral world ; and all things, in both, speedily 
attest the divine miracle of becoming "new." 
And can we then doubt she is sent by the Father 
above to this country and this age ? Never ! 
never ! For nothing short of Jehovah's own 
strong, "right arm" sustains Frances E. Willard 
in her hitherto unparalleled sphere of woman's 
usefulness. Keeping close to the footstool of 
God's grace, daily studying His Word more and 
more, her spiritually illuminated heart receives 
messages from the Father which she hastens to 



PAST AND rUESENT HEROISM. 493 

transmit to His faithful followers everywhere — 
and all lands and all seas shall yet blossom with 
the beauty and fragrance of her womanly teach- 
ings. Learned divines shall lind that they, too, 
may, through her influence, be led nearer to the 
heart of Christ ; and when they shall acknowl- 
edge and proclaim this sublime truth, men and 
women, together, shall build up and reign in 
"His kingdom on earth," even as Adam and Eve 
conjointly "kept" and dwelt within the "Gar- 
den of Eden" of old. 

And shall we then ignore the excellencies of 
the present generation for the glories of the past ? 
Sliall we heap bread of symimthetic admiration 
on the graves of the departed, and yet refuse a 
loaf to the hungry hearts of the living ? Shall 
we bind wreathes of vminortelles on the cold 
brows of dead gymnasts, while the living strug- 
gling wrestlers for the cause of Truth and Right 
are neglected and unknown'^ Shall we sound 
loud blasts of fame for those whose ears are alike 
deaf to jjraise or censure, and yet refuse to glad- 
den the warm, true hearts of tlie living with one 
sweet note of a[)preciation ^ Shall we searcli the 
records of autiquity for beings worthy of our 
love and admiration while there are those in our 



494 WASHINGTON IRVING. 

own land pining for ^he stimulns of sympathy 
and affection, who are engjiged in kindred labors 
and sacrifices ? Nay, verily ! Rather let ns, 
while devoutly thanking Him who "doeth all 
things well," for the inestimable gift of their ex- 
amples, lear;i to avoid the shortcomings of our 
ancestors by duly appreciating, loving and hon- 
oring, not only the great actors of the jiast ; but 
also by rightly estimating and encouraging the 
heroes and heroines of the living, active present, 
thus paving the way for a nobler, sublimer, and 
more exalted heroism in the ages yet to come. 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 

While America laments the death of one 
whose coruscations of intellect shed new luster 
o'er her national literature, woman mourns the 
loss of Washington Irving as a friend and bene- 
factor. The world reverences his fame as a scholar 
and writer : woman cherishes his memory as one 
whose heart Was ever irradiated with the sunshine 
of affection. With the generosity worthy of a 
higher order of beings he culled from the depths of 
his own heart those touching traits of tenderness 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 495 

and constancy which he has so beautifully woven 
around the character of woman, in the story of 
the "Broken Heart"; while with the candor 
worthy of a man, he adiidts that disai)pointed 
love does not often X)rove " fatal to his own sex." 
Himself disciplined in the school of blighted 
affection, with what beauty <*md i^thos does he de- 
scribe the fate of those " who have had the por- 
tals of the tond) suddenly closed between them 
and the being they most loved on earth. " No bitter 
repining, no mock sentimentality is there ; but 
the fathomless fountain of an undying love gushes 
fresh from the depths of his heart, and Hows, in 
an uninterrupted stream of purity and grace, 
from his pen. Truthfully does he portray the 
advantages that man possesses under such cir- 
cumstances, compared with those of woman : and 
then by a simile as touching as his nature was 
noble, tells how she seeks "to hide from the 
world the pangs of wounded affection." Endowed 
with a master mind, heaven saw lit to intrust to 
his keeping a heart as pure, as warm, and gentle 
as that which he so beautifully ascribes to the 
other sex ; and how faithfully he jjreserved the 
integrity of that heart, let history and his own 
writings prove. Utterly rejecting the soul-de- 



496 THE monk's son. 

basing theory that hardness of heart is a charac- 
teristic of true manliness, he looked on the 
"sunny side" of existence and, through the 
medium of his own apj)reciation of all that is 
estimable, threw rainbow tints of kindness and 
love over the ordinary transactions of life. And 
man dots not respect lilm less that woman loves 
him more. On the contrary, there is a chord be- 
longing to every human heart, which, however 
silent it may sometimes apx^ear, must ever vibrate 
in unison with the manifestations of an elevated 
nature. We can but admire intellect even when 
'tis warped by the want of princii)le ; but with 
what x^irity of feeling, what wealth of affection, 
what dei)th of devotion must we regard him, in 
whose life were so sweetly blended the lofty as- 
pirations of a gifted mind with the gentle breath- 
ings of a faithfnl heart. 



THE MONK'S SON. 

" May he grow up to be a priest of God ! May he live to 
take his part in the work of the Catholic reformation. For the 
service of the purified Church may he live ; and in that serv- 
ice may he die." — Father Hyacinthe' s prayer for his child. 

'Twas night in the cloistered home of the 
priest. Rapt in alternate study and devotion 



THE monk's son. 497 

the heart of tlie brave "soldier of tlie Cross'" 
had been deeply communing witli his God. In 
answer to prayer, more "light " liad been given — 
and suddenly, as the swoo^) of an angel's wing, the 
Gos})el of Grace ap})eared to sliine with a new 
meaning 'neatli the effulgence of that light. Was 
he indeed doomed to solitude in lif e ^ — he whose 
heart was so (^a[)acitated by its Maker for all the 
sublime beatitudes of a noble companionship, 
every fiber of which was interwoven with that 
last and great commandment, ''Thou shalt love 
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all 
thy soul, and with all thy strength ; and thy 
neighbor as thyself.'" Already had the claim of 
"Infallibility'" by the Pope roused him from the 
beautifur dream that Catholic faith was without 
fault, and pierced his heart with tlie solemn and 
saddening conviction — alas! too true! of the utter 
fallibility of the entire human race. With the 
heroism of a Luthei\ and the zeal of a Wesley, 
he had prepaied him for the storm of dissension 
which, with i)rophetic ken, he foresaw must, 
sooner or latei-, burst upon his beloved Church; 
while with tlie calm fortitude of a soul (conscious 
of its own integi-ity of [uirpose and [)urity of 
motive, he th)-o\vs hiinsell" into the breach as the 



498 THE monk's son. 

leader of the adherents of the "Old Catholic" 
faith. And now, by close scrutiny of the sacred 
volume, guided by the assistance of the Holy 
Spirit, is revealed to him the once unthought-of 
fact that he, too, as other men, may select from 
God's fair creation one with whom to live and 
die — may lawfully become the happy husband of 
one chosen wife. The being whom he selects has 
been well trained in the school of misfortune to 
become the soul companion of this calumny-as- 
sailed, this gifted and heroic, man. They stand 
together before the hymeneal altar, and the 
strange news is Hashed around the world that a 
Catholic priest hatli taken unto himself a wife. 
And now comes the more thrilling intelligence 
that he is a father ; and that, true to all the noble 
asjoirations of his holy calling, as he dedicates 
his child to God in baptism, he prays " that he 
may live and die in the service of the purified 
Church." Ah ! verily, a "little leaven is leaven 
ing the whole" lump of humanity. When the 
Evangelical Alliance met in New Yoik the lov- 
ing, cheering words sent across the ocean by 
Father Hyacinthe proved that his heart was with 
it ; while throughout the length and breadth of 
Christendom, amid all the commotions of Church 



WOMEN AND THE CENTENNIAL, 499 

and state, are unmistakable omens of the ap- 
proaching f iilhllment of the divine prayer, "That 
they al may be one ; as Thou, Father, art in me, 
and I in Thee, that they also may be one in us : 
that the loorld may heliem that Thott hast sent 
me."* And in this great and glorious work, of 
evangelizing and uniting the one great Christian 
Church, may little Paul Emanuel Hyacinthe 
Loyson bear a noble part on earth, and reap an 
abundant reward in heaven, we are sure is the 
prayer of every truly converted heart. 



WOMEN AND THE CENTENNIAL- 

We had anticipated great and glorious results 
from the celebration of the Centennial. From the 
time the first faint murmur of the distant note of 
preparation reached our ears, our hearts had 
throbbed in unison with the patriotic design. 
For we could readily estimate the soothing influ 
ence of such an assembly upon all sections of our 
own great country, and its beneficent result upon 
the affairs of other nations. But we must con- 
fess our most sanguine expectations have been 

• John 17 : 21. 



500 WOMEN AND THE CENTENNIAL. 

more than realized. There was one phase of the 
subject which — strange to say — in our mthusias- 
tic meditations uj^on the matter we had never 
thought; vlz.^ Its effect vpon tlie destiny of 
looman as a sex. Truly Mrs. Gillespie * has been 
richly rewarded for her patriotic industry and en- 
terprise ! And will not some noble woman, a hun- 
dred years hence, regard it as sufficient honor lor 
her lil'etime to occupy the same exalted ])osition 
in a similai- International celebration 't The event 
is full of significance for the present, prognostic 
of hope and joy for the future ! But why tliese 
thou oh ts ? 

There are thousands of men now dwelling in 
Christian lands who, were all the restraints and 
indirect influences of Christianity removed, would 
be but heathen in heart and in deed. There are 
women who are, as it were, semi-heathen, Iwcause 
they fail to realize the deep signiflcance of thnt 
heavenly radiance which l)egan to dawn in the 
East when the "Star of Bethlehem'' arose. 
They have not carefully studied the long-un- 
solved problem of human degradation and the 
masterly and only i)riicticaf)]e solution of the 



* Supermtendent of the "Woman's Uepartnieiit " of the Centennial 
Kxposition. 



WOMEN AND THE CENTENNIAL. 501 

same afforded in the sublime teachings of ".Jesus 
of Nftzareth." Yet could we ascend some high 
mountain-top of thought, and tliere investigate 
the history of mankind from the earliest ages of 
the world until the present time, as century af tei- 
century and nation after nation passed in review 
before us, we could ])ut grasp some faint recogni- 
tion of this divine truth : God nexier intended 
that woman should ahoays remain in the 
" Slough of DesjKind^'" into wh;ich the eatinii of 
the ^'■forbidden fruif'' plunged, her. In the ages 
{() come there was to be a Deliverer^ — a Being both 
liiuuaii and divine, whose immortal feet rested 
upon the' imperisliable "Rock of Ages" — who, 
with sympathizing heart and helping hand was 
to lift her from this mire of sorrow^ and degrada- 
tion, aiiil, ))Y a long tiiu'ht o'er the stairway of 
ages, lead her back to her primeval pui'ity and 
equality with man once enjoyed in the Garden of 
Eden. No wonder St. Paul, when thinking of 
the unbounded goodness and mercy of Deity, 
should exclaim, "O the depth of tlie riclies 
both of the wisdom and Ivnowledge of God ! how 
unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways 
past tinding out ! ' ' No wonder the deepest think- 
ers of the age, both male and female, hail the 



502 WOMEN AND THE CENTENNIAL. 

auspicious elevation of woman as an omen of 
good to the whole human race. How is it possi- 
ble for a people, or an entire race to be free indeed 
while its mothers are in bondage ? How can the 
offspring of the " Egyptian woman " receive the 
same rich inheritance with the "heir of promise," 
the child of Sarah? Yea ! call it "enthusiasm," 
"fanaticism," or what you will; yet the hearts 
of educated, elevated, conscientious Christian 
women must throb with appreciative x)leasure to 
know that at the great assembly of nations con- 
vened upon our shores in tlie Centennial year, 
the chosen chaplain of that occasion should have, 
in his official capacity, in his opening prayer, 
made use of the following words: " We pray 
thy benediction especially on the toomen of Amer- 
ica who^ for the first time in the history of our 
race^ take so conspicuous a place in a national 
celebration. May the light of their intelligence., 
purity., and enterprise shed its beams afar., until 
in distant lands their sisters may realize the 
beauty and, glory of Christian freedom and elexia- 
tionf'' Wast'ie Empress of Brazil, was the pri- 
vate American woman a less worthy wife or 
mother because of that prayer ? Or did not each, 
on this very account, resolve in her inmost soul 



SABBATH THOUGHTS. .003 

to prove truer, if possible, to every sacred trust 
of her womanhood i Let the heart of every noble 
man, the eye of every intelligent woman flash its 
own answer. 

Adown the ages far I see 
A gleaming light — it shines for me ! 
It gilds the pathway of my soul 
Along where clouds of darkness roll ; 
It fljishes radiance o'er the tide 
Of sorrow sweeping far and wide, 
And casts its own prophetic ray 
To heiald brighter coming day. 
When earth shall rise to higher state 
In homes of all, both small and great ; 
When hearts shall throb with purer joy, 
And holier aims our lives employ — 
For earth's exultant song shall l)e, 
" Sin's BONDS ake burst — and woman's 
free! " 



SABBATH THOUGHTS. 

'Twas night on the quiet plains of Judea. A 
holy calm lay o'er the little village of Bethlehem. 
A mighty event was at hand : a Saviour was about 
to be given to the world ! A stranger and his 



504 SABHATII THOIUJHTS. 

wife had round lodiiiiig inn stidl, for "there was 
uo room for rliein in tlie inn." Tlie prond, the 
haughty, the worhlly-minded, peichance, had 
found a resting-place beneatli its roof ; but all 
'' went to be taxed," and there was no accommo- 
dation for the hnm])]e sojournei's of " the house 
and the lineage of David" within its walls. 
Shepherds were Avatching their Hocks in the fields, 
all unconscious of the scene so soon to l)e enacted. 
But lo, a change! ''The gloi-x- of the Lord 
shone round ahout theni.'" and a heavenly mes- 
Sanger x>i'<>clainis, in tones as sweet as a seraph's 
lyre. "Behold I biing you good tidings of great 
joy, which shall be to all peo[)le ; for unto you is 
born a Saviour which is (yhi-ist the Lord ! Ye shall 
tind the babe lying in a manger."' Then, as if an 
angel's t^stimcmy vvei-escai-ce sutHcient to authen- 
ticate so great, so good, so- nndeserved a gift to 
man, "suddenly there was with tlie angel a mul- 
titude of the heavenly host, i)raising God and say- 
ing, Glorv to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good -will toward men ! "' 

O ! how the hearts of those simx)le-minded 
shepherds must have gone out in gratitude to 
Him wlio had permitted them, while yet on earth, 
to witness a scene like this ! Methinks it might 



"^ARRATH rnoiTGirrs. 5()5 

have atoned for n lifetiirie of sorrow miuI of suf- 
ferinii', to ha.ve been allowed to l)e]iold the "gloiy 
or the Lord" as thus I'evenled. And then what 
an inestimable privilege to hear such unearthly 
harmony — the choristers of heaven themselves 
chanting, in soul-thrilling cadence, words so 
fraught with beauty^ and with meaning, so replete 
and yet so free from cin^nnlocintion as these : 
"(ilory to tfod in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good will toward men!'' There was no 
doubt as to the fact of the vision. They could 
not question the veracity of a legion of angels ; 
and they must l)elieve that "Shiloh" had indeed 
ccjme ! And how their hearts must have swelled 
with thoughts of the inmimerable blessings which 
tliat coming would inevitably bring ! 

Earth has its scenes as sacred to the heart as 
was the remembrance of Sinai and the burning 
bush to that of Moses; scenes in which "the 
Condorter" has unmistakably manifested him- 
self; scenes linked to the memories of ihe soul 
by a thausand spirit-ties. Ami yet, has it ever 
" entered into tlie heart of jnan to conceive " one 
more serenely beautifid, more transcendental! y 
sublime, more imposing in its a|)pearance, or pro- 
lific in its results — save when a crucilied Redeemer 



ft()6 THE SECOND BAEE. 

ascended again to the bosom of His Father^tlian 
this ? Not unlike to it may be the joy which the 
heaven-bound Chi'istian feels when conscious that 
he is nearing- the shores of the Eteinal Home. 
Not unlike to it the visions of the loved and lost, 
which ofttimes greet the glazed eyes of those who 
have looked their last on earthly things, and 'are 
peering, as it were, into the vast "unknown." 
Not unlike to it the seraphic tones of heavenly 
melody which so often greet the ears which are 
deaf to all earthly sounds. And not unlike to it, 
it may be, tlie shouts of welcome which rever- 
berate through the crystal i)alaces and the golden 
streets of the New Jerusalem, when an earth- 
weary, God-serving pilgrim is allowed to enter its 
pearly gates, while all its varied hosts of inmates 
proclaim in heaven-taught minstrelsy: "Well 
done, thou good and faithful servant ; enter thou 
into the joy of thy Lord." 



THK SECOND BABE. 

Many mothers dwell with enthusiasm on the 
remembrance of the birth of their first child ; 
but with me it is different ; my fondest recollec- 
tions are those of my second babe. And why ? 



THE SECOND BABE. 60'7 

We had consigned our first-born to the grave. 
Amid the blooming of tiowers, the singing of 
birds, and the far-away booming of hostile can- 
non — for Vicksbnrg was then bravely defying the 
beleaguering foe — he had closed his eyes in death. 
At the dreary hour of midnight, the sole, lone 
watcher by his white-robed form — for the family 
were exhausted, and the ordinary courtesies of 
life could not then be exchanged among neigh- 
bors — I had knelt and prayed for Divine aid to 
enable me to "pass under the rod." On a beau- 
tiful Sabbath eve we had lowered him to his last 
resting-place, while the family, a few friends, and 
the servants had mingled their tears with ours. 
Another too, a stranger- inmate of the house, one 
who "wore the blue," had, with sad countenance 
and tearful eyes, followed the sacred injunction 
to "weep with those who weej)," as we stood 
around his little grave. Ah ! can I ever forget 
the matchless expression of those angel-eyes ? 
the calm dignity of that lofty brow ? the sweet 
music of tliat prattling tongue ? the quiet gentle- 
ness of that infant mien? JSo wonder a lady 
once said, "He never appeared to belong to this 
world, but ever seemed to be looking beyond." 



r)(»{^ THE >;Er!OND BARE. 

No wonder tlie venerable Bishop of tliis Diocese* 
toiu'liingly called him " his little Bishop'' when 
only a lew months old. No wonder the Federal 
soldiers clasped him in their arms, and pranced 
away on their richlj' caparisoned steeds, as he 
too held the reins and said as ])lainly as innocent 
childish prattle and conduct could say, "I love 
ycm." No wonder they, treated with uniform 
kindness and ]esi)ect the mother of such a child. 
Even one who seemed roughest of the rough 
among his soldier com[)anions. grew mild and 
gentle as a woman when he held that baby-l'orm, 
and spoke of liis own little boy away in the far 
West. But lie was dead ! dead to the world, not 
to me. I never dreamed how dear a spot a grave- 
yard (!ould be, until we laid him there. I never 
fully understood why people so prize the Howers 
that grow on lonely mounds, until they bloomed 
over him. I never realized the deep tenderness 
pervading all our Savicmr's utterances in refer- 
ence to little children, until I bowed beneath the 
deep shade of th^ evergreen trees whicii there 
excluded me from the outside world, and repeated 
them aloud l\y his grave. The Spirit of God 
would meet me at that sacred spot ; and my 



* Bishop Green, now deceased. 



THE SECOND BABE. o09 

child always seemed nearer, and heaven dearer 
when I had been there. But 1 coninienfed to tell 
about the second babe : 

Months of loneliness and sad'. ess, onlv re- 

' «,■ 

lieved by i'reqnent perusals of my Bible and by 
prayer, succeeded. Sometimes T would dream of 
dressing my lost darling ; and so vivid would be 
the impression of his sweet and life-like appear- 
ance that, for days afterward, I could almost real- 

• 

ize that I had actually seen him. But suddenly 
a new hope dawned in my heart : T was to be- 
come a mother again. Little loving arms were 
again to be twined about my neck ; soft, velvet 
lips again to be pressed to mine. () the joy of 
those midwinter and early Spring days! when 
snugly ensconced in a retired rrxmi of the house 
of a kind friend, I devised the cunning little gar- 
ments tliat were to enfold the stranger's form ! 
How with half nuitei'iial, half sisterly kindness, 
my hostess aided me in my enterprise I Every 
liour of the day was given to this loved enqjloy- 
ment : sometimes 1 even cheated the night of 
several hours bv rising before (hiwn, and, while 
my husbajid slept, weaving fairy stitches to be 
worn by my expected child. How wonderingly 
the maid of eight years looked on as I measured. 



510 THE SECOND BABE. 

and folded, and cut, and tucked, and ruffled the 
strange-looking garments, her naturally large 
eyes sometimes dilating to almost double their 
usual size. Yet she asked no questions, and I 
could, with truth, "keep my own counsel." My 
husband, loo, saw the devotion to another's ward- 
robe at the occasional exi^ense of neglecting his 
own ; but his hopes also were cast into the future, 
and he censured not. Tl;e lirst chapter of St. 
Luke's gospel assumed a new meaning to my 
mind ; and I could, in some remote degree, enter 
into the feelings of Elizabeth and Zacharias as 
they patiently awaited the fulhllment of the 
angel's prophecy in reference to the birth of John 
the Bai)tist. For I could, as the mother of an 
angel in "heaven, fully realize the honor and re- 
sponsibility of maternity. 

At length the eventful hour arrived ; and 
scarce had the martial music, the dress X)arade of 
stationed soldiers, and heavy cannonading in 
commemoiation of a nation's birthday died away 
in our ears when we inaugurated a gala-day of our 
own by welcoming the long-looked for stranger 
to "our home and hearts." How papa rejoiced 
in the possession of another son! He seemed 



THE SECOND BABE. 511 

suddenly to have grown several inclit s in stature, 
and many years in dignity and importance. O 
the quiet joy of those long, bright Summer days ! 
when baby and 1 lay side by side ; he looking so 
lovely as he slept — and I dreaming, dreaming of 
the time when he slioiild become a full-grown, 
noble man ! How faithfully our next door neigh- 
bor j)erformed all the loved offices of a mother 
who dwelt in the (then) "Confederacy," sepa- 
rated from us by the strictest Federal "picket- 
line." Even the old cook, long i^ast the age of 
maternity, and whose children were all dead, re- 
joiced with us ; while the neighboring encamp- 
ments of soldiers testified their respect by greatly 
diminished reveille and sunset noise and drum- 
ming. A mocking-bird, seemingly forgetful tliat 
we were almost within the city corporation, daily 
swung herself on a limb of a tree near my win- 
dow, and poured forth such gushing melody of 
song that I could but strive to answer her dear- 
loved strain. The beautiful colt, escaping from 
her own appropriate quarters, would gallop 
'round tlie house — then neigh, and, partly push- 
ing open the window blind, would peer around 
the room as if to say, "Why all this unwonted 



ol2 THE SECOND BABE. 

quietude and seclusion?"' and these were the 
words I sung to them : 

Sino-, Birdie, sing ! 
I know tliat your heart is light and free. 
As you sit on the limb ol' the hx'ust tree. 
And tell, in your tones of mirth and glee. 
Of the little boy now come 
To nestle in our hearts and home. 
Then sing, Birdie, sing! 
For Baby loves your song. 

Neigh, Col tie, neigh! 
As you frolic 'round with flying mane. 
Unconscious that the bit and rein 
Shall e'er your heedless steps restrain. 
But when another year has passed. 
And a tiny hand the bridle clasi)ed. 
You'll find that vour master's form. 

Tliough younger than your o^'. n, shall be 
A curb on your gait and liberty. 
Then neigh, Coltie, neigh ! 
And scampei' wildly while you may, 
As he sleeps the Summei' days away. 

How papa, when returning from duty ''down 
town," would drown remembrance, for a time, of 



THE SECOND BAP,p:. 513 

heat and dust, of patients and pills in watching 
every look and feature of our new-found treas- 
ure ! A Confederate officer having been captured 
in an adjoining county was given a letter of in- 
troduction to us by a friend residing near the 
scene of the disaster. Upon arriving at his 
hotel — the county jail — the letter was transmit- 
ted to us and his release secured. In a few days 
he called, and, of course, wanted to see his bene- 
factor's wonderful babe. Papa was in too great 
haste to have him dressed ; so he was hurried 
across the hall into the i)arlor just as he was, the 
snowy white of his little night-dress contrasting 
beautifully with his jet-black crown of hair, and 
his dark, lustrous* eyes. He could not have 
looked sweeter in the costliest christening robe. 
And such words of praise as I heard through 
the doors half-ajar : "What a fine child ! What 
a beautiful complexion ! Such splendid eyes ! " 
etc., etc. Perhaps the ex-lieutenant has now 
some little boys of his own in North Mississipi)i ; 
and if so, though a personal stranger to me, I do 
hope his paternal ears are ofttimes gladdened by 
such encomiums passed upon his offspring as 
then riveted mine. 

Our son is now a grown man, with the cares 



514 THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 

■t 

and responsibilities of mature years upon him. 
In the meantime the prattle of other little ones 
has been heard in our home, and their loved ac- 
cents — those of one, a beautiful and interesting 
daughter of seventeen months, now hnshed in 
death — been welcomed to their parents' hearts. 
Yet the circumstances under which he was born 
made an ineffaceable impression upon my inmost 
soul, and doubly endeared his coming to his 
sorrow-stricken mother's arms. And thus, 
whenever I accidentally come across a carefully 
preserved relic of his infant wardrobe, I contrast 
it with his present size, and dream over again the 
happy dreams that gladdened my heart and life 
when we first welcomed the second babe. 



THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 

'Twas the last hour of that pleasant visit. 
Already " Good-by" had been said to my aunt 
and to all her children except the handsome young 
cousin who was to accomjiany me to the railroad 
depot, and who now stood at the street gate, with 
one hand uj)on the open door of the hack which 
was to bear us away. My aged and dearly loved 



THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 515 

uncle had accompanied me to the door ; thence 
from under the shade- trees near by ; and the blaz- 
ing beams of unclouded August sun fell full 
upon his uncovered head, when I paused to bid 
him adieu, lest he should proceed still farther 
from the shade. Tenderly he said "Good by " ; 
and I looked up to photograph his features in my 
mind for all future time, while our hands were 
still clasped ; for I felt in all probability I would 
never see him again this side of eternity. My 
feelings must have been depicted on my counte- 
nance ; for, with a woman's ready intuition of 
another woman' s heart, his wife, who was stand- 
ing in the door some distance off, caught the 
meaning of that momentary hesitation, and, quick 
as thought, exclaimed: "Why don't you kiss 
her, husband ? " He stooped — our lips met — our 
hands were unclasped — and, in a few minutes, 
ray cousin and I were speeding along by the hand- 
some residences and cool, fragrant flower yards 
that girded the streets on either side leading to 
the railway. We talked of various things — lie 
of a certain young lady from tlie South among 
the rest — for in the gala-joyousness of his heart, 
blest with youth, with more beauty than oidina- 
rily falls to the lot of gentlemen, with intellectual 



516 THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 

acquirements and musical accomplisliments, it 
would have been unnatural for him to be sad ex- 
cept in the presence of death. I shed no tears, 
heaved no sighs, and pleasantly answered his 
playful sallies in reference to the lovely girl : but 
my heart was back in the yard where I had 
parted with my dear old uncle, whose tall form 
was so beautifully and royally crowned with 
gray. All the time I was thinking of him : of 
how, in "the long ago," lie had written me, from 
a great distance, ^'- Come and complete your edu- 
cation with me ; you can readily graduate in two 
years ; your hoard shall cost you nothing, and 
Willi my family you can feel at home.'' How^ I 
had gone. How kindly, gently, and faithfully 
4ie had instructed me ; for he was a man of few 
words, of quiet deportment and childlike sim- 
plicity of Christian character. How he had 
never expressed disapprobation of me during 
those two years, had often spoken words of praise 
and encouragement, telling me one memorable 
Saturday morning, after I had spent hours alone 
in the chapel, solving a difficult problem, when I 
carried the slates to him— thus interrupting him, 
at this unusual hour, in his library— as he ceased 
writing and reviewed the entire process, in a 



THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 517 

gratified and commendatory tone, "This is right ; 
and I have never before had a pupil, male or 
female, to solve this problem, without my assist- 
ance." 

How I had ever after treasured that unex- 
pected encomium in the storehouse of memory. 
How he had comforted me when a letter brought 
the sad intelligence of the death of one of the 
' ' loved ones at home. " How he had, by invitation, 
stood before a large congregation, on the last day 
of the old year, and touchingly preached frcmi the 
text : ' ' We spend our days as a tale that is told. ' ' 
How he had, so often, stood with uplifted hands, 
held meekly as once " the beloved disciple " held 
his, in the college chapel, beginning his prayer, 
^^ Not unto us, Lord! not unto us; hut unto 
Thy name he the glory ; " and tenderly repeating, 
during the same, " All things work together for 
good to them loho love and seroe God.^^ How he 
had blessed us, and pointed us to the good and 
"narrow way" in his baccalaureate address when 
we bade adieu to his loved instructions. How he 
had written us, upon the death of our first- 
born, ' ' / have experienced the loss of father^ of 
mother, of sisters and hrothers, and of chil- 
dren ; hut there is no sorrow like that of losing a 



518 THE FIKST AND LAST KISS. 

dear^ innocent hahe. " How his faitlil'iil missives 
of love and encouragement had found tlieir way, 
throug'li General Macpherson's headquarters, to 
our homes and hearts when they were desolated 
by the victorious march of an invading army. 
How, after the lapse of many years, it had almost 
seemed, during this visit, that I was a schoolgirl 
again. How he had knelt in the family, as once 
with the boarders at evening-prayers, and, in his 
own inimitably submissive way, begged the 
divine guidance uj^on each of our pathways. 
How he had kindly and candidly answered ques- 
tions pertaining to my spiritual welfare. How 
his deej), thoughtful blue eyes had moistened at 
the mere recital of an instance of childish sim- 
plicity and trust in the Saviour, and expressed, 
from out their soul-meaning depths, his apjjro- 
bation of my saying, " I must not break a jn'om- 
ise made an absent child." How he had cited 
from ancient history an example of a conquered 
people's regaining more than tlieir pristine glory 
and renown ; thus dissipating my fears for my 
beloved country. How I had gazed on his por- 
trait, painted by an artist- convict in gratitude for 
his striving, in early manhood, to rescue the 
"lost sheep of Israel " by voluntarily visiting the 



THE FIRST AND LAST KISS. 519 

state penitentiary and frequently preaching to 
the inmates thereof. How I had, sometimes dur- 
ing this visit, gone alone, to gaze on that picture 
of his features in his young manhood's i)rime, 
and felt it would be an inspiration towards good- 
ness and spirit-excellence for all life to come w ere 
it mine. How all these things came thronging 
through my mind, as soon as I had left his loved 
jn-esence, making it seem but a dream that I had 
really entered the car, that a check for my bag- 
gage had been handed me, that my cousin had 
bid me adieu, and that the train was actually in 
motion si)eeding towards my own home in the 
far off '^ Sunny South." 

O how little do men sometimes suspect the 
good they omit doing by not serving God in sim- 
plicity and in truth ! There is certainly a beauty 
and appropriateness in a woman's becoming a 
Christian. For it is according to the "eternal 
fitness of things " that, realizing her own weak- 
ness and dependence, she should learn to lean on 
Deity ; that, through the proffered medium of 
salvation through Christ, she should strive to 
lose, in a measure, the consciousness of her own 
exceeding littleness in the contemplation of the 
manifold mercies of a crucified Redeemer. But 



520 THE FIKST AND LAST KISS. 

there is a distinct, heart-awakening, soul-inspir- 
ing sublimity in a man's becoming a true Chris- 
tian, which is most sensibly felt by other men — 
such men too as otherwise might fail to become 
aroused to a sense of their danger. For when he 
who is the apjjointed representative "of Godhood 
on earth ; he who, perhaps, sounds the deepest 
depths and scales the loftiest heights of 
intellectual culture, comes from among the accu- 
mulated mental treasuries of centuries and, peni- 
tently kneeling at the foot of the Cross, acknowl- 
edges, with St. Paul, the entire insufficiency of 
human love to meet the demands of his immortal 
nature, a chord is struck in the souls of men that 
ceases not to vibrate till it reaches the hearts of 
angels, archangel, and of God — thence again but 
to flash back to earth, on si)irit-wires, a knowl- 
edge of the divine reality of that mysterious 
exi)erience which men call conmrsion. To this 
noblest and grandest exxierience of human nature 
and to its legitimate effects when carefully culti- 
vated, upon the hearts and lives of men, is my 
uncle indebted for all the sweet associations, the 
ineffaceable impressions, the hallowed influences 
that have ever clustered around my remembrance 
of him. 



THE gambler's WIFE. 521 

Seventeen years have again elapsed ; and he 
still lingers on the borders of time — an octoge- 
narian, ready, at any moment, to enter eternity ; 
while he regards Jiis pi'olonged stay as a signal 
display of Divine mercy which may be withdrawn 
at any time. His family are all matured and 
provided for ; and he seems like a ripened 
"sheaf" only awaiting the Master's orders to be 
garnered in the "harvest-home" above. Fain 
would I see his loved foi-m, clasj) his dear hand 
once more, ere he takes his dei)arture for the 
"Better Land." Yet, though I love him as a 
father, and would gladly hear his last accents on 
earth, the countless hills and vales, that for hun- 
dreds of miles intervene between us, solemnly 
admonish me, that, in all human probability, 1 
have received my first and last kiss. 



THE GAMBLER'S WIFE.* 
Of all the evils now deluging this Southern 
land, that of gambling, in its various forms, is 
one of the greatest. We may talk of being pros- 
trated and overrun by our former foes, but in 
some localities where one dollar is lost by taxa- 
tion, ten are thrown away as a sacrifice to the 



*A picture from real life. 



522 THE gambler's wife. 

demon of gaming. We may talk of "financial 
depression " and "poor crops," but as long as our 
men will leave their x)rofessions, their legitimate 
business avocations, their fields to si:)end the day 
in particii)ating in, or looking on at any kind of 
gaming, we can not reasonably expect the coun- 
try to prosper. Though the gambler's wife 
ex2)end every energy in trying to "keep up ap- 
pearances," or to "drive the wolf from the door," 
so long as her husband continues to game, so long 
will she be engaged in a desperate and probably 
futile struggle with the adversary of her home 
and of her heart's peace. Talk of marrying a 
member of the "starving profession," as I once 
heard a communicant of a church say in reference 
to preachers ; but, so long as gambling continues 
to be a disease of society, so long will it require 
all the prayers of the clergy and other Christians 
to avert even greater evils than starvation from 
our beloved land. And, in the meantime, go on 
noble men of God, in your high and holy work ! 
And, if your wives are "starving" at home, they 
at least have the consolation of knowing that their 
husbands are engaged in trying to rescue men 
from sin and Satan : and this is what the gam- 
bler's poor wife can never know, so long as he 



THE GAMULER-'S WIFE. 523 

continues to game, no matter if slie be attired in 
velvets, laces and diamonds, and " fare sumptu- 
ously" every day. And should you " die in the 
harness," should you expire, as some noble sol- 
diers of the Cross have done, while proclaiming 
God's truth from the pulpit, you will leave your 
children iinmlievitanGeoi graciotts promises that 
many a gambler's wife would welcome, could she 
claim them for her little brood, as the ship- 
wrecked mariner rejoices to grasp the plank that 
bears him from a tempestuous sea in safety to a 
far-oif shore. But what moral support has the 
gambler's wife? His relatives who knew him 
from a child, and who failed to do their duty 
towards him by inii)ressing his youthful mind 
with the sin and sorrow necessarily attendant 
upon gaming, in the hour of his calamity can 
escape from him and from it. But she who knew 
him not until he was a mature man, who did not 
even suspect his having the least disposition or 
inclination to such a course, must bear with all 
its bitter consequences. And if, in the course of 
long and trying years, she manifests impatience 
under her deep and unexpected woes, how many 
are ready to say she is not a faithful wife, a true 
woman ? The fond hopes that were hers on her 



524 THE gambler's viTIFE. 

marriage day have long since been laid in the 
grave. The bright anticipations that cheered her 
girlhood and her early womanhood have drifted 
away slowly, sadly, solemnly as the barque, that 
leaving a fair port at morn, sails steadily and 
unconsciously towards some ocean-maelstrom, 
and ne'er is heard of more. At dead hours of 
night, when other hearts are gathering strength 
for the next day's duties in refreshing slumber, 
in loneliness and tears, and no watches to aid her 
save God and angels, she is shrouding her dead 
hopes, and consigning them, not only to death, 
but to an igiiominious grave. O skeptic ! O 
atheist ! inlidel ! You may deride the religion 
of our Lord Jesus Christ, and with the Jews 
question, "Can any good thing come out of Naz- 
areth '(! " Yet were it not for this same religion ; 
were it not for the power of the Godhead that can 
"roll away the stone from the seiuilcher" of our 
dead hopes, and bid them re-arise ; were it not 
for the assurance of the Resurrection, and of an 
immortality of glory in the life to come, where, 
oh where ! in the Great Universe of God, with all 
its blazing suns and attendant systems, would be 
the refuge of the gambler's poor, earth-weary, 
soul-stricken, heart-broken wife ? 



SEPTEMBEK BIRDS. 525 

SEPTEMBER BIRDS. 
Air: "Annie Laurie." 

the air is so gently stirring, 
The sunshine so softly falls, 

1 wonder not that the songsters 
Respond to each other's calls ; 

As they twitter and chirp so gayly 
Within the old oak tree. 

your dulcet tones, my birdies ! 
Are a feast to memory. 

1 see a child in the morning 
So eager her books to learn ; 

I see her again, ere noontide, 

With the good, old-fashioned churn. 

I see her again in the afternoon. 
Ere the sun has gone to rest. 

In the dear old "pasture" roaming 
With those she loves the best ; 

Where the hickory and the hazel, 
And the beech-trees with their lore * 

Throw sweetest shade o'er the brooklet 
Where she shall roam no more : 



» All through the dells, in the pasture, " we children " carved the in- 
itials of our own and others' names on the beech-trees. 



526 SEPTEMBER BIRDS. 

Where sisters', brothers' voices — 
Alas ! some ne'er will come — 

Awaken the sweetest music 
About their dear old home. 

I see her in the Autumn, 

Ere the leaves begin to fall. 
With sisters and with schoolmates, 

Beneath the forests tall,* 
Hither and thither going. 

With pleasant, kindly words ; 
While they all with rapture listen 

To sweet September birds. 

I see her in the City,t 

With its tall and glittering spires, 
Whose late historic valor 

The poet's spirit fires ; 
An infant's gentle cooing 

Within her room is heard, 
While her heart-strings beat responsive 

To a blest September bird ! :{: 

I thank Thee, O my Father ! 
For all thy goodly gifts ; 



I 



* A scene at Edwards during my childhood. 

f Vicksburg. 

X The same mocking-bird, as I believed, which sung so sweetly 'round 
the newborn " second babe " in July. 



LITTLE WILL. 527 

My soul with j^urest pleasure 

Each to its Author lifts : 
And, as I journey onward, 

O may my path be cheered, 
Through all life's varied mazes 

By some September bird. 

Warren Co. Miss., September, 1879. 



LITTLE WILL.* 

How bright the sunshine falls, my love ! 

Around thy narrow bed ; 
How sweet the flowers are blooming there, 

Where prayers so oft are said. 

How tenderly the songsters chirp 

This fair September day. 
From every tree about that spot — 

To bear the soul away. 

To catch a glimpse of thy blest home 

Beyond the sunny skies ; 
Wliere now thy soul in gladness roams 

From where thy body lies. 

O ! darling babe ! thy eyes were like 
My flrst-born, gentle boy's ; 



* My only grandson, who went to dwell with the angels at the age ot 
three months; and whose body sleeps on Cunningham plantation, Wash- 



ington Co., Miss 



528 LITTLE WILL. 

Thy form as thy dear father's was * 
In infancy's first joys : 

A noble, quiet, loving soul 

Was cased in that dear form — 

How sweet thy glance ! how grand the hope 
That high o'er every storm 

Of coming life thy soul would rise 

Obedient to its God, 
And sanctify each sacrifice 

Of every path it trod ! 

Could I but hold thee in my arms, 

And fold thee to my breast 
One single hour again I feel 

' Twould give my heart such rest. 

The birds are singing 'round me here, 

I seem to see him now, 
With eye so bright, expression clear ; 

Such calmness on his brow : 

But never more on earth I'll grasp 

The form now lying still — 
In heaven above I'll spring to clasp 

My darling "Little Will"! 

Edwards, Hinds Co., Miss., September, 1889. 



♦ His father was my " second babe," my oldest son having died at the 
age of fifteen months. 



